Involuntary Addict
by lilrenthefox
Summary: Raylan is abducted, Tim almost goes insane looking for him and realizes how much the cowboy means to him; but when he finds him in Miami, Raylan is severely injured and has been forcibly drugged. Raylan/Tim graphic scenes in later chapters
1. Compromised

CH 1 Compromised

Raylan sat with his boots propped on his desk, Art scowled at him from his office which was nothing new. But this scowl came with walk-in duty, which he knew Raylan hated above almost anything else besides prisoner transfer, and since most people that were assholes while in Raylan's car ended up bloody or in a body bag he thought walk-ins were safest. The mountain of paperwork that came with having Raylan on his team had gotten ridiculous to say the least. Art smirked as he saw Raylan take statements and make reports,' Now you know how it feels,' he chuckled.

"Well, if we hear anything about a stolen Monte Carlo we will be sure to contact you right away," Raylan tipped his hat to the man and started the paperwork," Y'know if I get one more bullshitter I think I'm gonna go crazy."

"Then what? Go on a shooting spree?" Tim jeered.

"Oh you're cute," he flipped Tim the bird.

"Why Raylan I didn't know you had such deep feelings for me."

"Am I interrupting something?" Art strode out of his office, files in hand," I can always leave you two lovebirds alone."

"What you got for me, Art?"

"Who said it's for you, Raylan? I like being able to put my eyes on you, it's the only time I can pretend you do what I tell you."

"Very funny, Art," he said, Rachel and Tim both snickered.

"I want you to follow up on a lead, I got a call about some smugglers coming through Lexington, seems there's a market for cocaine and fentanyl now," Art smiled," I don't think you can screw this one up if you tried."

"The confidence is inspiring," he flashed a shit-eating grin.

"Tim, I want you to follow up on the other lead," Art put the other file on Tim's desk.

"Boyd Crowder?" Raylan rolled his eyes," You want me to go talk with Boyd?"

"You have your assignments," Art was already walking away.

"Well at least you two get to leave the office," Rachel chided," I'm stuck here with Art Mullen the Grouch riding the desk."

"I'll take that," Raylan grabbed his jacket.

Boyd Crowder wasn't a difficult man to find, most of the time he could be found at his bar with Ava. Raylan pulled up, remembering all the times he and Boyd had tried to kill each other and somehow each of them just kept surviving it. Every time they met he wondered if one of them would die, he was hoping he'd be quicker on the draw than Boyd. The bar had gotten some new upgrades since he'd been there last, although he didn't make it a habit of frequenting Boyd's bar unless he was there to arrest or interrogate someone, usually Boyd. He was a weaselly little guy, but if you saw past his vests and silver tongue you saw the real Boyd. A well built man with enough muscle and experience to give Raylan a run for his money in a fist fight, but Raylan was a quicker draw. Boyd always said if Raylan ever met a man who was faster on the draw it would be the day he died.

"Raylan Givens!" Boyd announced his entry.

"You always did know how to make an entrance."

"Something which you lack," Boyd punched his shoulder playfully, like they were old friends greeting one another. Yeah. Right," I take it you're not here to drink up my whiskey," Raylan couldn't figure out if he was making a statement or asking a question.

"No, Boyd, I'm not."

"Well what brings you into my establishment? Would you care for a drink while we chat?" He added the last part as an afterthought.

"Got a tip someone's bringing some treat bags to Harlan," he nodded as the bartender handed him a shot glass.

"Girl Scout cookies?" Boyd smiled as he toasted Raylan and they both downed their shots," I always tried to stay away from them as they can be quite addicting. So what are we talking? Thin mints? Tag alongs?"

"Cocaine cookies with Fentanyl filling."

"You don't waste words, do you?" Boyd brushed his hands on his vest," Now why would you think I knew anything about that?"

"Worth a shot, considering nothing illegal happens in this state, and a few others, that doesn't have Boyd Crowder's name on it."

"Now I am flattered, Mr. Givens."

"Oh so it turns into Mr. Givens when you feel threatened?"

"I am not an easily swayed man, I just address you in whatever way I deem appropriate depending on how hard you decide to bust my balls that day," he waved for another round," I think I've been more than generous, after all every time you've come here I've always let you drink my whiskey, most of the time for free."

"Boyd, if you know something about this it's best if you just let me know now."

"I can honestly say I do not," he slid Raylan another shot.

"Would this be the first time you're being honest with me, Boyd?" Raylan tipped his hat and downed the shot, enjoying the way it burned down his throat.

"Raylan," Boyd showed surprise that would have been mistaken for being genuine to anyone who didn't know better.

"See? You did it again," Raylan drawled," using my name now that you think the threat has passed," he turned the glass upside down," but I promise, if you're connected to this in any way I'll find out."

"I hope you find out who *is* at the end of this rainbow you're chasing, because it looks as if we have a common enemy," Boyd bowed eccentrically," but if I happen to come across some helpful information…"

"Boyd, I know you're still smuggling drugs," Boyd put his hands up defensively," you don't have to admit to it, I know you're doing it, my boss knows you're doing it, the entire state of Kentucky and a few surrounding states know you're doing it. So cut the bullshit. If you come across some useful information I can look more kindly on you when I bust your operation, and I will bust you one day."

"Well, let me step into my office and make a call," he hopped the bar and grabbed a bottle," you can enjoy this while you wait," he set it down with a fresh glass.

Raylan decided to take him up on the offer, he poured a generous glass of bourbon and took a long leisurely sip letting the smell bring memories back to him. Memories of his first job at the coal mine and the first time he'd ever lay eyes on Boyd,' Skinny little shit,' he reminisced fondly,' but Goddammit he could dig,' he felt the familiar buzz settling into his head and didn't pour another glass.

Boyd returned," Now Raylan, I feel the need to apologize."

"Boyd, I swear to-" Raylan trailed off as he saw Boyd coming back in with his hands up, a masked man behind him with a shiny silver pistol to his head," Now listen here, I don't know who you are," he regained his composure and poured another glass of bourbon," but if you kill him, I will have time to finish my drink before I put at least two holes in you," Raylan unsnapped his holster and put his hand on his Glock," So put the gun down and lie facedown on the floor."

"And you'd kill me right here, cowboy?" The masked man asked.

"I've had this conversation before," Raylan took a sip of bourbon," I don't draw my side arm unless I'm gonna shoot; and if I'm gonna shoot, I shoot to kill," he turned to face them," otherwise why carry a gun in the first place? So I'll say it one more time, in case it's hard to hear with that mask over your head, put down the gun and…"

"And if I kill him you think you'll have time to kill me."

"Dammit, don't interrupt me," Raylan was starting to get annoyed," it's rude; but matter of fact yes, I think I'd have plenty of time to kill you. As I was saying, put down the gun and…"

"Would you have time to kill them?" Raylan heard footsteps at his back, which he wasn't sure exactly how he hadn't noticed them before. He usually put his back to a wall for this very reason, but this masked asshole with a gun to Boyd's head had made him compromise that," I believe it is you who should put your gun down and get on the floor, Marshal."


	2. Abducted

CH 2 Abducted

Tim rubbed his forehead, the girl was definitely dead. The guy next to her, maybe her boyfriend, was definitely close to dead. His eyes glazed over, glassy and staring off into space, body twitching on occasion, Tim sighed. He finished the pleasantries with the officers cleaning up this shit show and pulled out his cell, the first call he made was to Art to inform him he would be getting a new addition to the file they were starting on this new supplier. Then he dialed Raylan's cell, it rang and went to voicemail. He decided not to leave a message,' Probably talking to Boyd, maybe he's actually getting somewhere with him,' he put his cell back in his pocket and headed back to the office.

He finished up the report, worked a lead and went to go grab a bite for lunch, still no sign of Raylan at the office. Tim was finishing his fries when Art walked out of his office," Anyone seen or heard from Raylan?"

Tim shook his head and finished chewing," He went to talk to Boyd Crowder this morning, see if he knew anything."

"I swear he's gonna give me a heart attack," Art grumped," have you tried calling him?"

"Called him about three hours ago before I headed here," Tim checked the time on his computer.

"Dammit Raylan," Art cursed," you have to at least check in."

"I am a Deputy U.S. Marshal," Raylan had put both of his hands up," killing me is a federal crime and as I remember Kentucky still favors the death penalty."

"On the floor, Marshal," the man repeated. Raylan swallowed hard and slid off of the bar stool, glaring at Boyd.

"Raylan, I didn't know…"

The man hit Boyd's collarbone with the butt of his pistol," Shut up," Boyd grabbed at his neck and groaned.

"You're hitting the floor one way or another, cowboy," the man growled," last. warning,"

"Why don't we all just-" Raylan took a small step towards Boyd, the crack of the pistol was deafening from such close range. He blinked,' What the hell was that?' His brain didn't have time to catch up as his body crumpled,' Did I just get shot?' Disoriented he rolled to his left side, his right hand clumsily reaching for his gun.

"I warned you, Marshal," someone was taking his Glock. He couldn't see who it was but he struggled, pain exploded across the side of his face," You won't be needing this," the edges of his vision blurred. Raylan felt for his cell inside his pocket, he pressed the call button twice and hoped his speed dial attempt had worked. The masked man flipped him on his stomach, searching him for his backup. He felt the man pulling at his belt, he took his hand away from his pocket and tried to get up, the floor was slick and he finally realized what happened,' I got hit,' he picked his head up and saw blood pooling on the floor. Hands grabbed his wrists and jerked them behind his back, the cold steel of his own handcuffs trapping his wrists so tightly he yelled.

He was hauled to his feet, his side burned and he gasped for air,' Guess that's where I took the bullet,' his head fell forward as the adrenaline stopped pounding in his ears and his knees got weak. The man in front of him grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head up," My team will come for us," he glanced at Boyd.

"They'll never find you, or what's left of you when we're finished. Pat them down."  
The man who'd handcuffed him roughly ran his hands over his shoulders and arms, Raylan grit his teeth and winced when he reached his chest and his knees threatened to buckle. The man moved on to his hips and then he found the cell phone that Raylan prayed was on an open line with Tim. He fished it out," Who still uses a Blackberry?"

As the masked man laughed, Raylan got a look at the screen on his phone. His speed dial had worked," Where are you taking me?" He knew the question was pointless but maybe Tim could trace the call.

The man who'd shot him took off his mask and got in Raylan's face," Where no one will even think to look for you," Raylan head butted him, he fell backwards and cursed. Boyd followed his lead and ducked, turning to try and tackle whoever was behind him. Boyd wrestled the man to the ground and was working on getting his pistol. The man who had Raylan's cell phone hit him hard in the side and he yelled as blood began to trickle into his jeans, he dropped to the floor face first and tried to catch his breath. He saw his phone on the floor next to him, call still active.

Tim spun around in his chair and pulled the charging cable out of his phone, he saw a missed call from Raylan and a voicemail,' Must've called while I was working the dead junkies,' he went to his voicemail and his blood ran cold," Art!" He paused the message and put it on speakerphone.

"You hear from Raylan?"

There was static, someone talking that they couldn't understand, then," Tim…at Boyd's bar-" he panted," took a bullet…they're gonna take me," pain was evident in his voice. Tim ran his hands over his face as he listened to his partner, almost begging them for help. Help that didn't come," He made a call?!" A different voice, there was a thump and Tim's stomach turned as Raylan groaned," Hey now!" Boyd's voice," The Marshal's already bloody!" The voicemail ended.

"Call his cell back," Art said immediately.

Tim dialed his cell, his mind racing in a thousand different directions. Aching to grab his jacket and bolt to get to Raylan, but where was he? Where would he even start looking? The phone didn't even ring before going to voicemail," Can you trace his cell?"

"Unfortunately not now," Art sighed.

Tim slammed his fist on his desk," I'm going to find him," he stood and grabbed his jacket and his ammo case.

"If he was so outnumbered he got abducted how do you expect to…" Art called after him but Tim was already headed for the elevators.

Raylan's eyes opened, Boyd lay across from him," Raylan?" He looked concerned for once, his nose was bloody and his face was swollen from the beating he must have taken," I tried, Raylan, I promise…"

"S'fine, whr'are we?" His shoulders ached, wrists still cuffed behind his back. Sweat had slicked his hair and rolled down his face mixing with the blood from the gash in his forehead and his side and chest burned with every breath.

"We've been riding in the back of this van for a few hours, I'm guessing by the dimming light anyway," Boyd scooted towards him and Raylan noticed that his hands and ankles were zip tied together," They only had one pair of cuffs," Boyd explained," Did that bullet go all the way through you?"

"Dunno," Raylan winced.

"Mind if I check?" Raylan must have looked surprised because Boyd followed up with," Y'know we were friends once."

"Yeah," Raylan nodded, Boyd's hands had been bound in front of him unlike the Marshal's which were still at the small of his back. The van hit a bump and Raylan yelled, he struggled against the cuffs which were now biting into his skin.

Boyd caught a glimpse of his wrists as he writhed, the van stopped. The front door opened and someone was opening the back doors to get to them," Shut him up," the same man who'd cuffed Raylan barked.

"His hands are turning purple, maybe if we loosened his cuffs…" Boyd offered, Raylan was breathing hard and groaning.

"Nice try, I said to shut him up!"

"Well, you did shoot him and cuff him and it's been hours…"

"I have a way to shut him up," the man that shot Raylan climbed into the back with them, he rummaged through some of the boxes lying near them," Uncuff him."

"I'm sure that will be greatly apprecia—" Boyd trailed off.

The pain was blinding, Raylan was beginning to feel like a caged animal,' They're gonna kill me,' he was rolled to his stomach, he was close to tears. The cuff snapped off of his left wrist, then his right. Whoever was over him rolled him onto his back and grabbed his arm at the bicep, pulling it towards them. He tried to jerk it back from them more out of reflex at the agony of finally being able to move after so long, he was rewarded with a backhand and saw stars. There was a small sting at the bend of his elbow,' They're drugging me,' he'd been drugged before, didn't make this time any less terrifying,' Tim, where are you?'


	3. Missing

CH 3 Missing

Tim hit the road, cursing himself for missing Raylan's call earlier,' I could have gotten to him,' he gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Raylan's voicemail kept replaying in his mind over and over, torturing his thoughts until he was sure he'd go insane. Even though it was futile, he sped to Boyd's bar. Art and Rachel were following, but he wasn't waiting for them or for the squad that was coming to investigate. He wanted to get there first, to do his own investigating. No one knew Raylan as well as he did, not even his own father. He barely put the car in park before he had jumped out, drawing his gun immediately. Raylan had suggested he get a Sig for his new sidearm, he had to admit it felt really nice in his hands. He scanned the area and kicked the door open, Boyd's bartender stood in the middle of the room looking very confused," U.S. Marshal, hands where I can see them!" It was almost a snarl.

"Okay, okay! Don't shoot, I just got here!" The man put his hands up," I'm just as confused as you are."

"You here alone?"

"Yeah officer, bar opens in two hours," he looked down," and I have a mess to clean up."

Tim stole a glance away from the man, he saw Raylan's hat on the floor next to his feet," This is officially a crime scene, please take a few steps back and let me and my team do our jobs."

"I'll do whatever I need to so you stop pointing that piece at me."

"I'm sorry," Tim lowered his gun, the man was complying," You can't clean this up yet."

"Boyd will have my ass if…"

"Have you heard from your boss today?" Tim asked, trying to turn his emotions off as he saw the blood on the floor. Raylan's blood.

"Not since early this morning."

"The bar won't be open tonight," he tried to keep his head straight, blood hadn't ever bothered Tim before. Then again this was different, this was his partner's blood. The thought of Raylan bleeding out with Boyd Crowder there for comfort was maddening. Tim managed to keep his focus, remembering Raylan's life was on the line if he didn't. He couldn't imagine a world without that smart assed cowboy making Art's life miserable and turning the U.S. Marshal's office into chaos when he flew off the handle.

Boyd stepped his feet through the zipties binding his wrists, the masked men had drugged Raylan and gotten back into the cab of the van leaving them alone in the cargo space," Raylan?" His voice almost a whisper, no response. He sat up and touched Raylan's shoulder, no response. Shit. He decided to get a better look at the gunshot wound in his side while the Marshal was unconscious, gingerly moving Raylan's arm out of the way. Blood had soaked his shirt, the black fabric clinging to his body, he pulled Raylan into his lap to see if he could find an exit wound,' Awe c'mon, y'gotta be joking,' no exit wound.

Raylan groaned and flexed his arms, his fingers swollen and turning blue," I'm trying to look out for you," Boyd sighed, even with the fates shifted and Raylan trying to put him back in prison he found himself wanting to help. They'd been friends once and he knew even though Raylan had shot him in the chest, chased him down, ruined several of his drug deals and had made it perfectly clear that his intentions weren't friendly anymore if Boyd was an outlaw; this was his fault and his mess. The cowboy didn't protest when Boyd settled him over his legs, even let out a small breath when Boyd rubbed his arms to try and keep blood flowing to his hands. Trying anything he could to keep him semi-coherent despite whatever drugs their captors had injected him with. For the first time in his life, Boyd prayed the U.S. Marshals were coming.

Tim barely noticed Art and Rachel when they came into Audrey's, he was retracing the blood trail left behind by Raylan's wounds and imagining nine different hells that his friend could be in. He followed it outside and it disappeared suddenly," Must've gotten into a vehicle," Rachel concluded.

"Do we know if there's video footage? Has anyone called Ava?" Art was jotting things down in a notepad.

Tim sat down at the bar, cradling Raylan's hat in his arms with a cold steely look in his eyes," I'm going to Ava Crowder's place." It was starting to get dark and they had no real leads to go off of.

"Better let Rachel…" Art started.

"No thank you," Tim was already leaving, he put Raylan's Stetson in the passenger seat of his car and pulled out of the parking lot as the forensics team and various task forces were arriving. He didn't stop to answer their questions, they knew less than he did and that wasn't good enough.  
The trip to Ava's seemed to take hours, everything was going in slow motion for Tim, he had no idea what to say or how to approach this situation. All he could think about was all the time that he'd spent with Raylan and how he was the closest thing that Tim could call a friend.

—Tim took a swig of his beer to wash down the greasy burgers and fries they'd gotten after they headed back to Tim's house from the bar. Raylan was channel surfing and had come across a pretty funny stand up comedian and was laughing, a genuine laugh unlike the snickers and fake smiles he flashed at the office to keep up appearances. Tim hadn't felt a connection with another human being since his best friend had been killed in Qatar.

Raylan had slid his boots off at the door and Tim had gone to the fridge for more beers. They both flopped down on the sofa, Tim let Raylan have the remote because it really didn't matter to him what was on the tv. They laughed like they'd know each other for years and it became apparent to Tim that they just fit, that this friendship was easy. He didn't have to pretend to be someone he wasn't, he could talk about his time overseas and Raylan didn't bat an eye.

"So this one guy we were watching in Afghanistan," Tim finished his beer and continued," I don't remember his name because we had our own names for our targets; but anyway, we were watching him and he sat down at his computer and started watching porn."

"Were there animals involved?" Raylan knew that joke was in very bad taste, but he also knew Tim's sense of humor could get a bit crude and twisted.

"Not that target, another one for another story," he cracked open a new bottle of beer," so he's 'enjoying' his movie and my boss calls in to go ahead and do the hit. Wait for it…" he takes a drink and wipes his mouth," right as I'm making sure I'm on target, the guy 'finishes' and I get a money shot with the brain matter!"

Raylan almost spit out his beer, imagining the scene," How'd you explain that to the higher-ups? Better yet, how'd you explain it to the unfortunate assholes who had to clean that up?" Nights like this gave them reason to go to work the next morning and keep dealing with all the scumbags.—

The van stopped, Boyd still had an unconscious Raylan laying over his legs. The bleeding from his side had stopped or at least slowed down enough that it wasn't seeping through to Boyd's pants. The back doors opened and the men with masks were back," C'mon lovebirds," one stepped into the back," Time to go," he grabbed the chain between the cuffs and pulled Raylan off of Boyd, Raylan couldn't bite back the half scream, half growl that tore from his throat as he was hauled from the van. The man tossed him into his masked accomplices roughly," Dose him again if he gets on your nerves, but I think the fight has gone out of that one," he turned to Boyd," What about you?"

"I do not want any trouble, but I must ask…"

"No, you mustn't," the man pulls a black hood over his head.

"If you're making an example of the Marshal you should probably return him alive at least," Boyd wasn't sure if they could make out what he was saying, but kept pleading Raylan's case all the way to wherever it was they were being lead. He heard a groan followed by a thud, Raylan was having trouble keeping up. The collapse was met with the threat of a taser, Boyd could hear the electricity crackling next to him," You could let me carry him."

"If it'll shut you up!" He pulled the hood off of Boyd's head," You won't know where we are anyway, you've probably never been this far away from home."

"I will try not to take offense to that," Boyd tried to figure out the least painful way to pick Raylan up.

"I personally don't give a shit what you're offended by you backwoods hillbilly," the other man put his hand on Boyd's arm," wait a second," he knelt by Boyd and Raylan.

"Don't bother trying to find a vein, we have a rig for him when we get him inside. Just give him more than last time," Boyd could only watch as Raylan squirmed and a second syringe full of drugs hit his system.

'A rig?' Boyd wanted to push the man away from them and run, but he couldn't leave Raylan here alone and he wouldn't make it more than a few feet if he tried to bring him,' Not only would his fellow Marshals beat me senseless, it's not fair and Raylan wouldn't leave me here,' he sighed deeply," Can you take the cuffs off so I can pick him up?"

"If it's too much trouble we can drag him," the man grabbed the chain between the cuffs.

"Stop…" Raylan's voice was strained, words slurred from whatever drug just hit him, and weak.

"It's no trouble," Boyd scooped his arms beneath Raylan, he hoped he could carry him without dropping him. Raylan was tall and much heavier than he looked, he felt sweat running down his back as he followed their captors, Raylan's head drooping and resting against his shoulder," Raylan?" He whispered, Raylan groaned," I'm going to try and find a way to get us both out of here," Raylan nodded," I promise, no matter what happens in here, it's my fault you're in this mess and I won't leave you like this."

Raylan hoped he could believe Boyd, then again Boyd wasn't much for promises that he didn't plan on keeping. He was too tired and his chest hurt too bad to really reply, he hoped the nod would suffice. He couldn't feel his hands anymore, he couldn't open his eyes without being blinded, even in the evening's soft glow it was like looking directly into the sun. His head pounded,' What the hell did they give me?' Being drugged would have been infuriating, if he'd had the energy to be angry. He felt Boyd scoop him up and he was being carried somewhere, whatever he'd been drugged with was not agreeing with him. The trip was a bad one and memories were invading that weren't welcome, playing like movies in his mind that he couldn't turn off.

—The belt cracked across his back, Raylan had gotten in between Arlo and his mother. His father had taken to scaring her when he'd been drinking and Raylan was tired of seeing her cry or having to listen to her screams from his bedroom. Tonight, he'd pissed his old man off on purpose to get the attention off of her. He hadn't counted on her coming to his rescue, telling her husband not to hurt him. Arlo backhanded him, he saw stars as he fell, then the assault continued.

"Arlo! Arlo that's enough!" His mother was crying and begging him to stop, just to stop beating him and go to sleep.

"I will not raise an arrogant little shit!" Arlo pushed her away from him," boys need more discipline than girls."

"Please, just come to bed with me," she'd pleaded.

Raylan wanted to tell his mom he was fine, it didn't hurt that bad. Tears streamed down his face, but not from the pain of the belt. He hated that look on his mom's face, the one where she felt helpless and caged. He vowed once he grew up he'd leave this place and take her with him, somewhere far away. Somewhere with a beach, she always talked about how she loved the sand between her toes and how relaxing the waves were at sunset. He just needed to grow up, he could take care of her, he could protect her once he was older.—

Ultimately that was what lead Raylan to move to Florida, even though his mother was dead. He had his other mother, he hated the word stepmother. Arlo wasn't mean to her like he was his first wife, he didn't beat on her but reserved his abuse for his son who, Raylan knew, he blamed for her death.

Raylan felt himself being lowered, someone was going through his pockets. He heard a jingling and suddenly his hands were free, his arms flopped to his sides and he bit his lip to keep from screaming. One of the masked men dragged him to a bed and shoved him onto the flimsy mattress, he tried to make sense of where he was but couldn't. He was held down roughly, he fought back out of reflex but was no match for his captors. He felt another needle bite into his arm, panicked he tried to jerk away. His head snapped to the side and he saw spots.

Tim left Ava's feeling more confused than he had when he pulled into her driveway, on his way back to the office he wracked his brain for anyone that would know who wanted to abduct Boyd. Raylan was just in the wrong place at the wrong time more than likely, he knew too many criminals who *wanted* to abduct a U.S. Marshal, but none who would ever have the balls to actually do it. He picked up his cell and dialed Art," Any news?" He wasn't hopeful but figured he'd try anyway.

"Forensics picked up some tire tracks and believe it or not the surveillance at Audrey's was on and it actually works," Art shuffled through some papers," We're looking for three masked men in a blue van, looks like one of the ones we use for prisoner transport almost."

"Do we know which way they headed?" Tim felt a surge of hope.

"They turned left out of the parking lot, I don't know if they stayed in that direction but…"

"That's up towards the mountains," Time hadn't heard the second half of that sentence," I'm headed up that way."

"Tim it's getting late," Art sounded uneasy.

"If it was any of us you know Raylan would be running his Town Car up and down these roads until the fucking wheels fell off or he found us, whichever came first."

"Have you tried his cell again?"

The question hung in the air, Tim didn't want to chance provoking whoever had his partner," No, I don't think they'll let him talk anyway. Probably smashed his phone."

"Probably, I'm about to call the sheriffs in our surrounding counties and see if they can spare some man power," Art sighed," We could use the help, that mountain's big as shit."

Usually Art's one-liners were more on point and made Tim smile, but he could hear the worry in his boss's voice and decided not to call him on it. Instead he replied," Let me know how that goes, I'm gonna scout this area for awhile. And before you say it, yes I have my rifle and my sidearm, and my backup, and my ammo case, and some snacks in case I get hungry."

"I hope you find him," Art's voice cracked, Raylan had been nothing but trouble since he'd come to Kentucky; but he'd also seen himself in that Stetson-wearing asshole with the shit-eating grin. He'd taken Raylan under his wing and treated him like a son, especially since his own father wasn't a shining example and hadn't earned any gold stars for good behavior.

"Me too," Tim hung up the phone. He turned on his high beams and started driving back to Audrey's, hoping against all hope that he could follow some sort of trail that would lead him to his friend.

—"Fill your hands you sonuvabitch!" Tim pointed at Raylan, his fingers in the classic shape of guns like he'd done as a child.

Raylan laughed and clutched his chest, staggering around like he'd been shot," Oh no! You got me John Wayne!" He almost spilled his beer, but Tim caught his arm.

"I think you've had enough, cowboy," Tim teased.

"Bullshit," Raylan sank into the couch," haven't even cracked open the bourbon."

The guys had been watching old John Wayne movies all evening, Rooster Cogburn was one of Raylan's favorites and Tim was sure he'd seen it at least twelve times already. It never got old, Raylan would down beers and shots of whiskey and start acting out the scenes like the cowboys on the movies," Well, let's not go too crazy," Tim shook his head," aw hell," he poured a glass for each of them," screw it, we're off tomorrow."

"And here I thought you weren't any fun, Gutterson," Raylan smirked as he took his glass.

"I have all kinds of talents," Tim took a long drink.

"I thought you were a one-trick show-pony with a rifle," Raylan laughed, his quick-wit and sarcasm easing away as the alcohol started clouding his mind. It was a comfortable fog, though he rarely let anyone see this side of him.

"Well, I can hook my phone up to that speaker and we can take turns singing Martina McBride until the neighbors call the cops on us."

"If you're not gonna sing Dolly Parton don't bother," Raylan took another drink," Art would be really pissed to have to come all the way out here for anything less than perfection."

"What's wrong with Martina McBride?" Tim hadn't felt a sense of relaxation or general at-ease since he'd come back to the states after his last tour had ended. There was something so simple and easy about being friends with Raylan, maybe it was because they had so much in common, maybe it was because they always started their nights with enough alcohol to put an entire police department under the table until morning, but whatever it was Tim finally felt like a person again. He could talk to Raylan about what happened overseas if he needed to get it off his chest, no judgement, no funny looks. Usually a nod and a freshly filled glass was offered, Raylan offered up his own war stories from Miami on occasion.—

Tim walked wearily into Audrey's, he sat at the bar and ran his fingers through his hair. The new bartender was still cleaning up," Can I get you something, Marshal?"

"Hear anything from Boyd?"

"No sir," he pulled a glass from the shelf and filled it with bourbon.

"Thank you," Tim swirled the liquid in the glass before downing it.

"Your cowboy friend always ordered bourbon," he refilled the glass," I'm Casey by the way, this is on the house."

"Thanks, Casey," he ran his finger around the rim of the glass," I was hoping Boyd would have gotten in touch with someone."

"You tried Ava?"

"Yeah, I went to her house and spoke with her," bourbon stinging all the way down his throat and warming him from the inside out. He felt like he should be doing something, like somehow he was letting his friend down by not storming into each house down the road the van had taken.

"I'm real sorry about your friend," he poured himself a shot," I spoke with the other officers when they got here, told them what I knew."

"I appreciate it," Tim nodded a toast to Casey," I feel like I'm chasing my tail," his cell rang and he jumped, he fumbled for it and prayed it was Raylan," Got anything, Art?"

"Nothing solid," Art's chair squeaked and Tim guessed he was back at the office," have a few people saying they've seen some less than polite looking people around but nothing we can pin down. Where are you?"

"Audrey's having a drink," Tim slid off the bar stool, he tossed a twenty on the bar and started walking out.

"Get some sleep."

"No can do, boss," Tim got back in his car, his chest hurt as he looked over and saw Raylan's Stetson on the passenger seat.

—"Why a cowboy hat?" Tim must've heard at least a dozen people make fun of Raylan's hat, but no one had ever asked why.

"Honestly?" Raylan smirked.

"Best policy."

"Because it fit," Raylan had kicked his boots off and was resting his feet on the coffee table.

"Because it fit?" Tim repeated.

"Yeah, I tried it on just for fun and it fit. So I bought it."

"How do you make it stay on?"

"It's conformed to my head over the years," he said, taking his hat off and looking it over.

"And the boots?" Tim's turn to smirk," you try those on at the same store and they fit too? Those can't be easy to run in."

"I've gotten used to them," Raylan stretched out and lay his hat on the table next to the arm of the couch," Always liked westerns and since I'd committed to the Stetson I figured why not. I wore boots when I was diggin' coal, different kind but," he shrugged and let the sentence hang in the air.

"Anyone ever tell you you were born in the wrong time period?"

"It's been said, but do you really think you have room to talk with all of those old Disney movies on your shelves?" Raylan looked over at him and grinned.

"You're just jealous I sing better than you."

"You have the voice, I have the good looks and the hat."—

"Tim, come on back to the office at least," he vaguely realized that Art was still talking to him and shook his head to clear it.

"I'm on my way, boss," he was too tired to argue.

Art was staring at some papers on his desk with a glass of bourbon in his hand when Tim got there," You should really try to sleep, son."

"I can't," Tim paced the office," he went to Audrey's to talk to Boyd. Why was he there?"

"Rumor of a new supplier," Art circled something on his page and Tim could see he was trying to connect the events. Names had been written and scratched out and written again, lines had been drawn from the names to addresses but nothing seemed to fit together.

"So the new supplier went to Audrey's to get Boyd and Raylan got in the way?"

"That's the only thing I can figure," Art took a swig of bourbon.

"I'm going to hit up every drug dealer I know and see if I can get a name," Tim took his keys out of his pocket.

"If you think of anything, call me," Tim pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"I'm looking at records of known drug suppliers in the surrounding states," Art looked up, he saw the bags under Tim's eyes and that the young man was pale," remember, Tim, you're no good to him unless you take care of yourself too."

"I appreciate the concern, boss."

"Seriously, he needs you to be strong enough to get him out of whatever trouble he's in."

"I'll try to get some rest after I talk to my list of scumbags, thank you Chief."


	4. Memories

CH 4 Memories

Boyd's head bounced off of the wall as he was roughly thrown into a small dimly-lit room, he heard the heavy door shut behind him and the steel lock's click. He smacked the wall and growled, running his hands through his hair and trying to think of a way out of this. As he inspected the door he realized the men had thrown him into a portable storage unit. A groan from across the room caught his attention. He turned and saw a ratty blanket hanging from some nails on the ceiling, he moved the dingy fabric out of the way. Raylan lay on an old futon, breath coming in short gasps. Boyd covered his mouth, Raylan's wrists and ankles were zip tied to the frame of the futon. Scarier still, an IV tube was taped crudely to his forearm, the tubing leading to a bag hanging from a hook on the wall," Raylan?"

"Mmmmph."

"Holy shit," Boyd jerked the blanket off of the nails to get more light, the futon's mattress was damp with sweat and blood. Raylan flexed his hands as he felt Boyd sit next to him," Raylan, I don't know what to do…"

"C-cold," Raylan shivered.

"I've gotcha," Boyd covered him with his jacket and then the blanket.

His body was burning up but he trembled beneath Boyd's jacket and the blanket he was covered with. He panted from the agony in his chest and was almost sure he was dying, whatever drugs those men had given him were starting to interfere with his ability to differentiate reality from the hellish memories that had continued their assault.

—Raylan sat outside in a lawn chair with a beer in his hand, the beer was almost warm. He stared at the graves in front of him, tracing the names 'Helen' and 'Arlo' with his eyes before he got to the third one. 'Raylan Givens' etched in a Roman type font, he shook his head,' One day,' he thought,' one day this job's gonna put me there,' he rubbed the bridge of his nose between his eyes. Winona hadn't called to check on him in the last few days,' Probably still mad at me,' he finished the beer and went back inside, coming back out with a bottle of bourbon.

He'd sat there all day, not bothering to get up even to eat, he drank until his vision blurred. At least that's what he told himself, Raylan Givens didn't cry. Every time he had even teared up as a child Arlo had beaten him until he either couldn't move or had passed out. He winced as he remembered Arlo's belt, getting in between his father and Helen. Sweet Helen, the woman who'd given him hope again. She'd believed in him, kissed him good night and read to him out of his favorite western novels until he'd fallen asleep…

Footsteps interrupted his thoughts, he didn't bother reaching for his side arm,' If it's my time to go it's my time to go,' he looked almost fondly at the tombstone in front of him.

"God damn, Raylan this is morbid as fucking hell," Tim had hiked his way up to check on him. Raylan sighed, not really in the mood for company but desperate to have someone there so he wasn't alone. He didn't remember everything about the next few hours, other than Tim helping him to his feet and steadying him when he got sick. He'd woke up at Tim's house, on the couch, in clean clothes, with a cool rag on his forehead and another on the back of his neck. Tim was sitting on the floor next to the couch he was laying on, a movie on in the background that he wasn't watching.—

He'd complained about Tim acting like a woman, but at the moment he'd have given anything to be on Tim's couch while they both pretended to watch whatever cartoon or western that Tim put on,' Tim,' his head spun,' where are you?'

Tim's eyes were starting to get heavy, he pulled over and tried to shake himself awake. He turned the AC on cold and put it to max to try and help, his cell rang," Yeah boss?"

"Where are you?" Art got straight to the point.

Tim looked around and realized he was in front of his house," I'm at home, in my driveway.'

"You okay?"

"No sir," he wasn't sure if it was the exhaustion, but he didn't have it in him to lie.

"Want me to send Rachel over?"

"No," he answered quickly.

"Then I'm coming over," Art didn't give him a chance to protest before he hung up the phone.

Art found Tim still sitting in his car when he got there, he knocked on the window," C'mon Gutterson," he put on his boss voice," let's get inside and get you something to eat and some rest."

Tim fumbled the keys into the lock, he walked inside and tossed his bag in the corner like he and Raylan always did after a night out," Go shower and I'll order us some take out," Art pulled out his phone and started dialing.

Tim felt numb, he went to his bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes. He turned the shower on and tossed the day's clothes in the hamper, he almost laughed when he saw a familiar flannel button down hanging on the back of the door. Raylan had a habit of leaving clothes at his house when he stayed over. He'd have given anything to have him there to give him shit,' Are you trying to be my girlfriend?' He'd ask him, Raylan would flash him a shit-eating grin and laugh, then reply with something along the lines of,' Why Tim, are you hitting on me?' He'd never had a friend that he was comfortable enough to banter like that with since Jesse died. He never really talked about Jesse, just like Raylan never talked about Helen. He stepped into the shower and let the water hit him, remembering the far away look Raylan got in his eyes whenever he would talk about her. Usually he was drunk, he'd slur his words and Tim swore he was about to break down and cry when he'd drift off to sleep or get up for a refill or to go take a leak.

—Art had gotten worried about Raylan while he was on suspension, so he'd sent Tim out to Raylan's house to check on him. He hadn't came to the office to get something he'd 'forgotten' and conveniently overhear a case they were working on so he could try and get involved, hell he hadn't even called or sent a text. Tim had tried the usual places, the hotel where he'd stayed when he'd first gotten to Kentucky, the apartment above the bar, the other bar he liked, then he went to Arlo and Helen's house. Arlo was probably passed out or with Boyd, but he went on a hike when he saw Raylan's town car pointing towards the side of the mountain.

He'd found Raylan sitting in a lawn chair outside, beer bottles scattered at his feet and a bottle of bourbon that was about to fall out of his hand and half resting on the grass. Raylan was staring at something in front of him, as Tim got closer he saw the headstones," God damn, Raylan, this is morbid as fucking hell," Raylan's reflexes were still on point, he jumped as Tim spoke, hand going to his hip to grab his gun," Easy pal," Tim put his hands up playfully," hands up, don't go shooting me."

"Tim, what're y'doin' 'ere?" His words were slurred and accent thick.

Tim could smell the bourbon on him from where he was standing," Art got worried about you, he told me to come babysit."

"Not 'n th' mood," Raylan took a long drink straight from the bottle.

"Isn't it a little early to be day-drinking?" Tim walked over to him," Can I sit down?"

"I don' need a babysitter."

"Well what if I missed you?" Tim poked Raylan's thigh.

"Fuck you."

"I'll pass," Tim flashed him a smile," besides I'm not blonde so I don't think I'm your type."

"Fuck you."

"Seriously, Ray, c'mon," Tim stretched and stood up," I'll bring you home with me and get some food in you," Raylan was either too drunk or too tired to care as Tim helped him up. He reached out and grabbed at Tim's shoulders and threw up after only a few steps," Have you eaten anything today?" He wiped his mouth and shook his head," We need to change that," Tim caught his hat before it fell," can you make it down the slope?" Raylan stumbled but nodded,"

Riiiiight," Tim put one arm under Raylan's and the other he scooped under his knees.

"Tim, what the hell?"

"Shutup, princess," Tim grinned," and if you throw up on me I swear I'll kick your ass," Raylan snorted. He'd passed out on the drive back to Tim's house, Tim had carried him into the house and pulled off his boots and hat and put them on the table next to the door. He never realized how heavy and awkward Raylan was until he dragged him into the bathroom and turned on the shower, he helped his drunken friend undress and get in the shower, although he left the washing up to him. He handed him a towel and helped him into a pair of sweats he'd had from his days in the army and an old t-shirt.

Tim put on Alice in Wonderland, it was a comfort movie for him, the story was one his mother had read to him every night at bedtime. Tim could almost smell the lotion she used after she'd had her bath. He grabbed some Tylenol and a bottle of Gatorade and sat on the floor in front of the couch, Raylan took the pills and thanked him before sinking back onto one of the throw pillows.

They'd sat in silence until Raylan got up on an elbow," Tim," his voice was breathy and Tim was afraid he was going to throw up on him, he turned to face him just in case he needed to bail. Raylan sat up, silent for a long moment, Tim looking up at him inquisitively. Raylan leaned forward," I…"

"I can help you get to the bathroom if you need to—" Tim started, Raylan had put a hand on his shoulder and Tim got to his knees to help him up. Raylan didn't stand up, he fell into him and leaned his head on Tim's shoulder," Ray, you okay?"

"She's gone…" it was a choked sound, Tim felt his friend's grief delve into the deepest parts of his heart. This was soul-crushing grief, the kind someone only got once they felt like they'd lost one of the most important things in the world to them. At first he didn't know what to do, he just sat dumbfounded as Raylan leaned against him, breath hot on his neck. Then he felt it, his shirt started sticking to him and Raylan's shoulders were shaking. Raylan Givens was crying. Tim actually had some experience with this, Jesse's death had hit him hard. He'd gone to visit Jesse's parents in Montana and had broke down sobbing when his father had answered the door. He'd looked just like Jesse, a little older and weathered but an exact carbon copy. Jesse's father had cried with him for at least half an hour.

He pulled Raylan into him just like Jesse's father had done for him," It's okay," he remembered when he had to hold his grief in with no one to let it out in front of.

"I'm sorry, Tim," Raylan started to push away from him.

"Ray, your mama just got killed," Tim wouldn't let him go," if this helps you deal with that so you can catch the asshole who did it, well I'm okay with that."

"I'm not gay…"

"You think that would matter?" Tim snickered," Do you know how many of my guys overseas slept curled up closer to the rest of us than they did at home with their wives? We're people, we have emotions and sometimes…" he tried to find the words," hell, Ray, I don't give a damn if you were gay."

"I'm not."

"Shut the hell up," Tim smiled.

"You're the only person I trusted…"

"It's not healthy to keep stuff like this bottled up," Tim helped him back onto the couch but didn't shy away from him.

"She taught me to drive," Raylan dried his eyes," down this road actually. Arlo had an old beat up pick up, she took the keys and we'd go driving until it started getting dark."

"She sounds like an amazing woman."

"She was," Raylan had started composing himself now," No matter what I'd done, she never let Arlo hurt me. She kept me safe, until she wasn't around, then she would tend to me and scream at him like she could scream the demons out of him. Only person he ever listened to, the beatings got less severe when she showed up."

"I know what that feels like," Tim sprawled on the couch and put his feet on the table," I also know you're probably not gonna remember this conversation in the morning, and if you do you're not gonna wanna talk about it," he let his accent show.

"Thank you, darlin'," Raylan drawled, he shot Tim a sleepy smile.—

"Gutterson, you okay in there?" Art knocked on the door, Tim jumped and almost busted his ass.

"Yeah," he got out and quickly got dressed.

"I got take out," Art had several boxes of Chinese food scattered on his coffee table, Tim rubbed his eyes to get the image of Raylan sitting where Art was out of his head.

"Thank you, boss," Tim smiled and sat down.

"We're gonna find him," Art said after a long silence.

"I hope he's all right," Tim felt his nerves fluttering in his stomach.

"Me too," Art took a drink of his beer," even though he's a loose cannon that has piled more paperwork on my desk from all the stupid shit that he does…I hope he's hiding somewhere and trying to get to a phone to call us to come get him," as they finished eating Art took note of Tim downing copious amounts of bourbon, presumably to help him sleep.

"When Jesse died," Tim started," I didn't think I'd ever find another friend like him. It was like a part of me died with him."

"Jesse?" Art leaned back in an easy chair.

"My best friend, he got killed in Qatar," Tim explained," he was my eyes, made sure I was on target, checked my gear for me, we looked out for each other. He took a piece of shrapnel and infection took him from me," Tim got a far away look in his eyes, the dead stare was almost scary," Jesse and I just clicked, I mean whenever you share a space about as big as a fox hole and you literally do everything together you get pretty close to someone. We shared a sleeping bag in the middle of the desert to keep from freezing to death."

"Sounds like a good man."

"We just clicked, we fit. Nothing gay about it," Tim ran a hand through his hair," I knew that no matter what I could count on him. We laughed together and cried together, I always thought we'd get out and go home and sign up to teach new recruits. I actually saw Raylan in Glenco once while Jesse and I were there, it was right before we left for Qatar. Raylan was on a punishment assignment teaching firearms instruction."

"Firearms instruction?"

"Yeah, Ray was a marine," Tim still had that serious look on his face," I didn't talk to him or like get to know him but I watched him while he did his qualifier for that year. I remember telling Jesse 'damn good shot, too bad he looks like such an asshole'," Tim laughed," I was right."

"Yeah, Raylan's one of the best. I'd trust him at my back if…"

"Not about the gun play part," Tim snickered," Ray you asshole…why'd you have to go and get yourself abducted?" Tim's eyes closed and he drifted to sleep.  
Art picked up the leftovers and got a blanket from the back of the lazy boy, he covered Tim with the blanket and settled in the recliner. It was going to be a long night.

Art's cell phone went off," Mullen," he stretched, Tim was stirring on the couch at the sound of his voice.

"You put a BOLO out on Raylan Givens?"

"Yes," Art sat up, suddenly very awake," Any word?"

"Someone saw the vehicle he was last seen in come into town, we're watching it but wanted to contact you before we did anything."

"See where they go, Gutterson and I are on our way."

"They find Raylan?" Tim was wide awake.


	5. Jesus Saves

CH 5 Jesus Saves

"Found the van he was in."

Tim ran to his room and threw his khakis and a collared shirt on, he grabbed his guns, badge, and backups," Let's go," he was on his way out the door before Art had time to call the office.

Tim and Art were met by Vasquez at the Marshal's office, it was no secret that Vasquez didn't like Raylan and thought his methods were reckless," Chief, we saw an older white van, like the ones used in prisoner transport, it matched the description of the vehicle seen at Audrey's around the time Deputy Givens was abducted."

"Where is it now?"

"We have eyes on it, I can have one of our guys follow it."

"I'd like to see if I can intercept…" Tim started

"I'm sure you would Gutterson, but the FBI is involved now," Vasquez started to walk away.

"I know these streets," Tim was saying as he followed Vasquez.

"We can't even confirm that Deputy Givens has been abducted."

"What do you mean?!" Tim was outraged.

"Honestly, is it unusual that Givens hasn't checked in?"

"His blood was found at Audrey's!" Tim felt his hands form fists.

"We don't know that was his blood, lab hasn't called back yet."

"His hat was there!"

"So we're basing our abduction theory on some drops of blood and the fact that Givens, who's a borderline alcoholic, forgot his hat somewhere?" He shook his head as he fixed his coffee," not good enough, I'm sorry."

"Listen here, you little shit…."

"Mullen, control your deputy," Vasquez brushed Tim off as he headed back to the chief's office.

"Tim, I know he's a prick but let him do his job," Vasquez shot a glare in Art's direction.  
Hours went by, the van hadn't moved and Tim was wringing his hands and visibly shaken. He couldn't bring himself to eat anything, he kept sipping coffee and staring at the computer screen broadcasting the van's location.

"Let's send a plainclothes officer down there," Vasquez was telling someone in the conference room.

"If they see an officer they might clam up, whoever these people are working for have one of our Marshals and we know he's wounded at best," Art's voice answered, Tim stayed next to the doorway, around the corner and out of sight, listening.

"At this point, he's been missing for almost thirty-eight hours," Vasquez again.

"So what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying we need to make a move because there's a new kingpin in town and—"

"Because finding this new kingpin is at the top of my fucking priority list right now…" Art let the sarcasm hang in the air.

"If he has had your officer for this long then odds are—"

"Odds are we're looking for a body, so you're telling me that catching this new potential kingpin is more important than—"

"If we can stop a disease before it spreads—"

"So fuck Raylan then?!" Art was yelling now," Is that it? You've given up any hope that Raylan's alive so fuck it, let's see if we can get you a promotion by nabbing a kingpin?"

"Sounds like everything's going great in there," Rachel came to lean against the wall next to Tim.

"Sounds like everyone but us thinks Ray's dead."

"I saw the scene, that was a lot of blood, Tim…"

"So you agree?!"

"I didn't say that at all," Rachel put a hand on his arm, trying to be reassuring," I'm just saying whatever shape he was in when he was abducted…" she sighed," I don't know what I'm saying anymore. I just hope we can find him, and soon," Art and Vasquez were still arguing.

"That's not going to happen with all these assholes sitting around a table circle-jerking while Art tries to move things along and find Raylan," Tim's eyes were steel and his jaw was set.

"You have the same look on your face that Raylan gets on his…" Tim turned to look at her," when he's about to do something fucking stupid," she finished with," I'm in, let's go. Before anyone notices we're gone."

Rachel started her SUV," Where do we start?"

"We're gonna drive by the van and see if we see anything unusual," Tim chambered a round into his sidearm, then his backup.

"You know Vasquez could have our jobs for this," Rachel said, putting the vehicle in reverse and pulling out of the parking lot.

"If they haven't court marshaled Raylan yet, or at least fired him, for all the shit he's done I think we'll be okay," Tim couldn't help but smile.

"I have a few drug dealers we can interview too, I'm sure they're probably not gonna be happy about some new competition. Especially since it will mean we're going through Harlan with a fine-toothed comb."

"Well let's make some hillbillies very uncomfortable."

As they started down 14th Street, they spotted the van. Tim felt a lump in his throat as they passed by, seeing no one around. After they'd made the block Rachel parked the SUV," What's the plan?"

"I'm gonna go check out the van," Tim unbuckled and got out, his cell phone buzzed," Gutterson," he answered, he didn't want to but he knew Art had enough to worry about with one of them missing and didn't want a BOLO out on him too.

"What the hell are you two doing?"

"About to check out that van," Tim started walking.

"Vasquez is about to have a heart attack," Tim could hear some amusement in Art's voice.

"You tell your deputy to get his ass back here before I have his God damn job!"

"See?" He could hear the smile in Art's voice now," he wants your job now."

"With all the crazy shit Ray's pulled and hasn't gotten fired yet, I think I'll be all right," he rounded the corner.

"I swear to God, if he fucks this up I'll put his dick in a blender and make him a smoothie!"

"All due respect, boss," Tim had figured out Art was on his side at this point but couldn't let him know," Vasquez can go fuck himself, if you really want us to come back just tell me."

"You're making a huge mistake interfering with Vasquez, there will be consequences."

"Oh, you mean like that PTO I've got coming up?" Tim snickered at the thought of Vasquez losing his shit on the other end.

"Exactly like that," Art tried to sound menacing for Vasquez," now you make your decision as to what you wanna do and how much shit you wanna be in when you two get back!"

"I'll let Rachel know we're in deep shit, boss."

"You do that," Art added quietly," be careful."

"Will do, boss," Tim hung up.

"So how much trouble are we in?" Rachel had caught up to him,' Jeez he walks fast.'

"Art has to put on a show for that little FBI fucker in his office, but he's about to give the both of us some PTO after this is over," they were about to turn onto the street where the van was parked," not like he can suspend us right now and Vasquez knows it, there's not enough man-power to properly conduct a search for Raylan right now even with us out here."

"And you're counting on this?"

"Betting my career," Tim's face went blank," I won't let him end up like Benny or Jesse."

"Who?" Rachel was sorry she'd asked as soon as the question left her lips.

"Jesse was my best friend, he got killed in Qatar. Benny was with me when my unit was compromised and got held hostage for six days, they killed him," he shook his head," Sharp eyes, the van's getting closer."

Rachel had seen Tim's expression change when he picked up his rifle on previous runs with him. He went cold and emotionless, he wasn't even Tim anymore. It changed the way he spoke, the way he walked and the way he handled situations.

—Tim had practically flown down the twisty little backroad and Rachel's knuckles were white from holding onto the 'oh shit' handle above the door. Art's expression wasn't much more comfortable and the two of them were silently praying that they'd all make it there in one piece. They breathed a sigh of relief when he locked up the brakes at the top of the hill. He barely turned the vehicle off before he'd grabbed his rifle and was stalking his way down towards the Bennett house. She'd followed, but stayed off to his right. She was scanning the sloping landscape around her when she saw the house, Raylan was standing next to his town car with Dickie next to the driver's seat in cuffs beside him. She couldn't hear what he was saying and was sure that no one down there had seen them yet and dropped to a knee. Tim was already setting himself up, steadying his rifle on a rock.

She spared a look at Tim, then she heard it. Gunfire echoed through the mountains, then a sound she'd only heard from feral animals tore from Tim's throat. Smoke from his rifle drifted her way and she turned to see him barreling down towards the house, then she saw it. Raylan was laying on the ground next to his car,' Oh shit,' she followed Tim with Art close behind.

When they got there Raylan was already getting to his feet, Tim trying to convince him to lay down and let him have a look. It was like it didn't even register to Raylan that he'd been hit, his adrenaline was probably overpowering any pain. Tim followed him into the house, Sig .40 drawn and pointed at the floor. Ready in case anyone else tried anything stupid.—

Raylan had managed to diffuse the situation, without Loretta killing Mags or anyone else getting hurt. Which was amazing considering he had a bullet in his side, she remembered seeing a hint of the real Tim as he'd helped Raylan out of the house and into the ambulance. Refusing to leave and shooting anyone a look that would hit harder than his bullets that suggested he shouldn't be there. She looked thoughtfully at Tim, usually she thought he looked like a kid; but today she saw him differently. Maybe it was the shirt he was wearing, her eyes traced over his arms and the knotted muscles in his back. She shook her head,' Focus,' she told herself. She'd had a crush on Tim for as long as she could remember, but he'd always seemed so unattainable, so distant and out of reach. She envied Raylan, how they'd spend their evenings at his house drinking and watching tv. Sometimes she wondered if they weren't gay, then she'd see Raylan chasing a skirt as it swished past him and push that idea out of her head. If Raylan had a downfall, besides being a complete smart ass, it was women. There was a time when she too was mesmerized by that Stetson-wearing badass, but her affections always went back to the sniper with the sad blue eyes.

Tim approached the van, knowing Art and Vasquez were watching, people were going about their daily business and he tried to look normal. He checked the front, no one was there, he went to the back doors. Rachel took her gun from its holster and nodded, Tim flung the doors open and aimed his pistol. Empty.

He holstered his firearm and hopped into the back, he growled at hit the wall of the van when he saw the blood," He's hit," he wiped his palms on his shirt," he's lost a lot of blood."

"Blood isn't completely dry yet," Rachel noted, it was still sticky and shimmering in the light," Why would they leave it here? It seems stupid."

"Whoever this is, they wanted us to find this," Tim wrung his hands.

"Can I help you folks?" Rachel turned to see an older man approaching.

"Where is he?" Tim dropped to the concrete, hand on his gun.

"I'm sorry son, who?"

"You know who I'm talking about," Tim's eyes were cold and his voice was low and controlled.

"All I know is you're in my van," the man backed up a step when he saw Tim's hand on his gun.

"A fellow Marshal was abducted two days ago," Rachel put a hand on Tim's shoulder, he jumped but stayed still," he was last seen being forced into this van. We've been looking for its owner."

"Well that's me, I found my van parked at my house this morning and was bringing it to town to do my errands."

"So it went missing two days ago and you didn't report it?" Tim scoffed.

"My boy takes it for his hunting trips sometimes, sometimes he tells me and sometimes he doesn't."

"Have you seen what's back here?" Tim was starting to get annoyed.

"Yeah, I thought he'd killed a deer and forgot to clean up," the man's eyes got big," y'mean that's that Marshal's blood?"

"Can't say for sure but we're going to get our people down here to check it out," Rachel was standing by the old man.

"Jesus, I hope he's all right."

"Us too," Rachel sighed heavily.

"Anything I can do to help," the man offered his hand," My name's Wyatt."

Art and Vasquez showed up with forensics, Tim paced as they searched the van and interviewed Wyatt. Rachel saw he was slowly losing it, his eyes had dark circles beneath them and his face was pale. He must have been running on sheer force of will, she went to him," Tim," she offered.

"I should have answered my fucking phone," Tim kicked a rock.

"You can't blame yourself," she put an arm around him and he let her.

"We've got nothing. No leads, no one's seen him or Boyd, he could be dead by now."

"He's a tough son of a bitch."

"No prints," Art informed them," guys are professionals, wore gloves and wiped the place down except for the blood."

"Raylan's?" Tim's mouth felt dry.

"Hopefully not all of it is his," Art sighed.

"Exactly what did you think you were doing?!" Vasquez approached.

"I really wouldn't…" Rachel stepped in front of Tim.

"I should have you pulled off this case, or fired!"

"I should kick the shit out of you," Tim snarled back," Because of you we wasted hours watching an empty van while Raylan is still missing!"

"Think about the fact that Deputy Givens might not even be—"

Tim grabbed Vasquez's collar and pulled his fist back to hit him," You don't get to even say his fucking name, you piece of filth."

"Tim!" Art caught Tim's arm and pulled him back," Let go of him, I have a lead."

"I'm charging Deputy Gutterson with assault!"

"You need to shut the hell up before I let him assault you," Art was leading Tim and Rachel away.

"There's a guy from Miami in town, I think it's someone from Raylan's past. He put away some really bad men in Florida and I think one of them has followed him here."

"It would make sense," Rachel was chewing a granola bar as she and Tim sped down the highway toward Lexington.

"That could be why none of the suppliers around here know what we're talking about," Tim's voice was shaky. Raylan didn't talk about Miami much, it was no secret that after he'd killed Tommy Bucks he'd had to transfer to Kentucky not only because his boss was pissed nine ways to Sunday at him for all the paperwork and havoc he'd caused but because he wasn't safe there anymore. There was a list of people who wanted Raylan dead and a waiting list a mile long of people who were itching to kick his ass. He could take a beating like no one Tim had ever seen, but everyone had their limits.

"So we're looking for someone from Miami in a town of about three hundred thousand people."

"What if they've taken him back to Florida?"

"We have a BOLO out on him."

"They could have slipped past," Tim tried to stay calm. The Lexington exit was coming up, he merged off and headed for the police station.

"I saw there's a BOLO out on Givens," the detective at the desk was flipping through papers," I'm Detective Lions. I haven't heard anything yet, but we're at your disposal if you need us."

"We appreciate that," Tim had composed himself and Rachel let him take lead," have you heard of any areas being hit harder by drugs recently?"

"There was a disturbance last night, but no one matching his description was found," he found the paper he was looking for and handed it to Tim," this is the report that was filed."

Tim and Rachel read over the notes," Wait, your report reads there was a Monte Carlo? Red?"

"Yeah, guy driving it was some Italian looking bastard. Had some drugs on him, we booked him."

"Raylan just filed a report on a missing red Monte Carlo before he went missing."

"Might be the same one, we still have the guy in custody," the officer was grabbing a set of keys," C'mon, follow me to the jail and I'll let you talk to him."

The jail here was bigger than the one in Harlan county, more red tape to go through on their way in. Lions lead them into the visitation room where a dark-haired Italian sat at the table," This is Roman, he was driving the Monte Carlo."

"I'm Deputy U.S. Marshal Tim Gutterson, this is Rachel Brooks," Tim sat down across from Roman," did you see this man?" He pulled a picture of Raylan up on his phone.

"You cannot help," the man's accent was thick.

"If you help us, we can talk about a deal," Tim insisted.

"Even if I tell you, you cannot help."

"Try me," Tim tapped his fingers on the table.

"What do you mean we can't help?" Rachel asked.

"He killed Tommy Bucks," Roman acted like this should answer all of their questions.

"Who's Tommy Bucks?"

"He was the leader of the drug cartel in Miami, the reason Raylan transferred here in the first place. Tommy Bucks tortured a man in front of Raylan and he drew on him when Raylan went to confront him about it. Raylan shot and killed him at a villa by the pool," Tim rested his chin on his hand," but he's dead now. So why should he matter to us?"

"Not him, his son."

"So let me get this straight," Rachel tucked her hair behind her ear," Raylan killed a drug lord named Tommy Bucks in Florida and now that man's son is here to take him out?"

"Sounds about right," Tim said.

"But why come all the way up here? Why not send a hitman? Why abduct Boyd Crowder too?"

"Where did they take Raylan?" Tim stayed on point.

"I don't know."

"Yes, yes you do," Tim leaned forward a bit," and you're going to tell me."

"Or what, tough man?"

Tim smiled and Rachel was suddenly very afraid of him, he lunged across the table and tackled Roman to the ground. He pinned Roman to the ground and straddled his chest, Roman struggled but Tim had leverage. He slammed Roman's right wrist next to his head on the floor and snaked his own arm under Roman's at the elbow, the man kicked and writhed. Tim started to crank his elbow," If you don't tell me, I'm going to break your arm in three places. Then I'm going to break your wrist and every bone in your hand," he pulled up on Roman's elbow and the man yelled.

"Tim!" Rachel was on her feet.

Tim ignored her,"…and if you think Rachel and Detective Lions are gonna get to me in time to pull me off of you before I can maim you for the rest of your life you seriously underestimate my skills," the man's elbow popped sickeningly," you see, the difference between you and me is I'll get out of here and go find Raylan and then go to jail with a smile on my face knowing he's alive and well."

"Okay okay!" Roman relented," They take Marshal to a warehouse."

"Where?!"

"I don't know!"

Tim pulled harder on his arm and felt it pop out of place," Where?!" He yelled.

"It has 'Jesus Saves' painted with crucifix," Roman squirmed," Please, please stop!" He was almost crying.

"Let's go!" Tim let go and jumped to his feet.

"Now wait a minute…" Detective Lions put a hand out.

"Detective either move out of my way or I will move you," Rachel knew he'd do it.

"His arm's out of place, how do I explain this?" Lions gestured towards Roman.

"Want me to punch you and you can say he did it?" Tim shrugged.

"No, just letting you know this might fall back on you," Lions moved for Tim to pass.

"I don't care," Tim was already walking to the door," I meant what I said, I'll go to jail with a smile as long as Raylan's all right."

"I'll handle things here, go find your partner."


	6. Hitman

CH 6 Hitman

"Do you know where you're going?" Rachel asked as they got back in the SUV.

Tim was calling Art," No but I know who will. Art, got a lead no time to explain. I'm looking for a warehouse with 'Jesus Saves' painted on the side and a crucifix," he put the phone on speaker.

"Only building I know of was a slaughterhouse about an hour away from you, I'll send you the address. Where'd you find this lead?"

"I just beat it out of a man named Roman," Tim explained," I know you're going to have to suspend me, I'm not mad Art. Raylan took a report the morning he went missing, I remember because he was bitching about it."

"Typical Raylan," Tim could almost hear Art rolling his eyes.

"Anyway, it was a red Monte Carlo, stolen. We thought it was bullshit, someone trying to collect some insurance money on a stolen car that they'd dumped somewhere themselves. Come to find out it was actually stolen, the guy who stole it was Roman Degricchi. Italian guy from, wait for it, Miami."

"Holy shit."

"Yeah, Raylan killed Tommy Bucks and his son is angry apparently. So someone came to get revenge, the drugs are a cover up more than likely."

"I'm sending backup after you," rustling over the phone, Art was grabbing his jacket and gear.

"Where are you going?" Vasquez's voice.

"To this address, send your guys there to back my deputies up."

"I'll see you there, boss."

"Be careful," Art warned," these are some very bad people."

"I know, you drive safe boss," Tim hung up the phone, he knew exactly how dangerous the men that had Raylan were.

—It wasn't the first time Tim had brought Raylan home with him, drunk as hell and barely able to see straight. He'd staggered in and somehow managed to pull his boots off before he made it to the couch. Tim took off his own boots and grabbed a few beers out of the fridge, he propped up in the recliner and tossed Raylan a beer," You sure you should be drinking on those pain meds?"

"I won'tell if y'won't," Raylan slurred, earlier that day he'd went to deliver twenty thousand dollars to Travis Travors and had been caught in the crossfire. The man he was trying to get out of there in one piece had shot him in the chest, thankfully he'd put on his vest before going on the call. Usually he didn't but something told him this would be more dangerous, at least that's what he'd told Tim.

"How're you feelin'?" Tim popped the top off of his beer and took a drink.

"Like I got punched in the chest," Raylan's accent always got thicker when he'd been drinking, which was a lot lately.

"Job starting to get to you?" Tim went straight for the point," You've been drinking a lot here lately."

Raylan sighed," This guy reminded me of a man I killed in Florida. Tommy Bucks," the name hung in the air and Raylan seemed to be reliving the memory," I went to question him, I found some bullshit excuse," he seemed to sober up as he spoke," when I got there he had a guy, little more than a kid, tied to a palm tree. He put a stick of dynamite in his mouth, taped it shut so he couldn't spit it out. I tried to get to him, Tommy's guys beat the hell out of me. Broke my nose, split my forehead open," he rubbed his hairline and Tim saw a faint scar," broke all of my ribs on my left side and dislocated my shoulder. Tommy told me I was next and lit the fuse, the blast blew the kid's head completely off, all that was left was the bottom half of his torso and a few strings of meat holding what was left of him together. Tommy was unphased, he wiped the blood from his face and gave his sport coat to one of his thugs. I thought he was gonna kill me too," Raylan stretched his arm, remembering what it felt like and popping it as he sometimes did when it got real cold and it hurt," Instead he had his guys work me over until I passed out, I woke up in my car outside of a bar.""Is that when you told him he had twenty-four hours to get out of Florida?"

"Somewhere in between them almost knockin' out a few of my teeth and me passing out. He didn't believe me, so I tracked him down and killed him. I always wondered though, what would have happened if he wouldn't have pulled. Would I have made good on my word and killed him anyway?"—

Tim's stomach turned as he saw the big 'Jesus Saves' on the side of the old building, he parked in some shrubbery to hide the SUV and hopped out. From the trunk he took his rifle out of its case, clipped the wolf strap onto it and put his vest on before he slung it over his shoulder. He handed Rachel a shotgun, she was fastening her jacket over her own bulletproof vest," Ready?" He met her eyes.

"Do you want to wait on backup?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

"I'm gonna watch the place for awhile from up there," he pointed up the tree they'd parked next to," and I'll make a decision from there."

"Sounds like a plan," she had to admit they were pretty well hidden, Tim was good at what he did and his days as a Ranger were showing.

Tim looked through his scope and surveyed the area, not a soul in sight but he did see several trucks. After about half an hour his cell buzzed," Gutterson," he spoke softly even from this distance.

"We're getting close," Art's voice.

"I don't see anyone outside, just some trucks."

"Is there a way to get in there without being seen?"

"Not that I can see."

"So we're going in guns blazing?" Art snorted," I'm getting too old for this shit."

"I'm taking point," Tim was making his way down from the tree," Rachel, watch for Art. He's almost here, I'm going for a closer look."

"You got it," she knew better than to argue.

"I'll see you soon, and Art, call an ambulance."

"Already have," Art reassured him," They're on my six."

Tim hung up and decided to wait for Art, minutes crawled by as he continued to watch the warehouse through his scope. He heard the cars on the gravel, looking over his shoulder he saw Art's car approaching followed by an ambulance and several more black SUVs," So much for the element of surprise."

Art came up to meet Tim and Rachel," See anyone?"

"Nope," Tim shifted his stance.

"Well the FBI is bringing what looks like a SWAT team in full riot gear."

"Seems Vasquez *can* be useful," Tim snorted," something's not right."

"What do you mean?" Rachel asked.

"I mean we've been here almost forty five minutes and haven't seen a single person come outta there."

"Do you think they've moved him?" Art adjusted his hat.

"I don't know, but I don't think anyone's here."

"Tim's instincts have been spot on thus far," Rachel zipped her jacket.

"I think they're gonna try and take Raylan back to Miami," Tim didn't wait for anyone to say anything else, he headed for the warehouse.

"I hope you're wrong about this," Art and Rachel followed.

"Deputy U.S. Marshals! Open up!" Tim banged on the door, more to listen for movement inside than expecting anyone to answer. He heard someone and didn't wait for a response, he kicked through the old door and it splintered behind the force. He rushed in, rifle at the ready. Rachel and Art on his heels. The place was empty, save some old farm equipment. Tim stepped around rusted saw blades and other tools of the slaughterhouse, it smelled of old blood with a tinge of death that lingered. He wrinkled his nose, then saw movement in the back. An old blanket with someone beneath it, someone struggling. Hope surged through him and he ran to it, letting his rifle fall back in its place on his back.

He pulled the blanket back," Boyd?" He pulled the tape and bandana off of his face," Where's Raylan?"

"I-don't-know," Boyd licked his lips and flexed his jaw.

"Why would they leave you here and take him?" Tim figured he already knew the answer but had to ask anyway.

"I tried—" Tim realized something was very wrong with Boyd," they—took him."

"Boyd, do you know where you are?" Tim pulled a flashlight off his belt and shined it in Boyd's eyes.

"Raylan?" Rachel breathed.

"'Fraid not," Boyd was trying to get away from Tim's flashlight.

"Something's up with him," Tim pulled the blanket off of him," They didn't even bother to tie him up."

Paramedics came in and started examining Boyd," He's got drugs in his system."

"Where did they take Raylan?" Tim pressed.

"Biscuits…" Boyd was fading.

"God dammit, Boyd!" Tim stood and walked away to keep from hitting him.

"Call off the SWAT team," Rachel sighed.

"No way to tell how long they've been gone," Tim was raking his hands through his hair," fucking biscuits…"

"So we got nothing," Vasquez stepped around the clutter," Crowder doesn't know where they went?"

"Biscuits," Tim growled.

"You mean Biscayne?" Vasquez asked.

"Huh?"

"Key Biscayne," Vasquez repeated," it's one of the Florida Keys, not far from Miami."

"Tim, Rachel, go home and pack a bag," Art was on his phone," I'm booking you two the next flight out to Miami."

"And how am I going to explain…"

"Frankly, I don't give a shit *what* you tell your boss at this point," Art snapped at Vasquez.

Tim threw a few days worth of clothes into a duffel bag, he grabbed Raylan's shirt off of the back of the bathroom door and put it on. After loading his bags into the SUV he slid into the passenger's seat. Rachel stared at him for a few seconds," What?"

"Is that…?"

"…and?" Tim rolled the sleeves of Raylan's shirt up, he knew she'd figure it out. Raylan's arms were longer than Tim's and the shirt was big on him.

"You're cute," she smiled at him.

"Hmmmph," he pouted.

"Why are we flying to Miami?" Rachel changed the subject.

"That's where Raylan killed Tommy Bucks."

"How do we know whoever has him is taking him there?"

"Boyd was trying to tell us they're taking Ray-Ray to Key Biscayne," Tim shrugged," he looked too fucked up to lie to us, that and I'm pretty sure he knows I'd have put his dick in a blender if I caught him lying about this."

"Art's probably putting out a BOLO in every state along the way to Florida," Rachel noticed Tim quoting Raylan and couldn't help a small snicker.

"Probably," Tim checked his phone," our flight is in two hours from Lexington to Tennessee, then to Miami. We'll have to drive to the coast and take a boat or a jet ski or whatever the hell they have there to Key Biscayne."

"Do you know your way around there?"

"Not a single street," Tim admitted," I have a GPS and a smart phone."

"Should we stop by Raylan's hotel and grab some clothes for him?"

"I have some."

"You two are hardly the same size," she gestured to the flannel Tim was wearing.

"He's been at my house often enough that I have half his wardrobe there. I packed some of my sweats too, just in case he's not up for wearing his jeans."

"How often does Raylan stay at your house?"

"I dunno," Tim suddenly felt uncomfortable," few times a week."

"Tim," she started," is there something going on between you two?"

"Like what?"

"Like Raylan is practically living with you and the two of you seem, close," she felt a twinge of jealousy that Raylan got to see Tim in his pajamas and wondered if he walked around the house without his shirt.

"You're suggesting we're seeing each other?" Tim rolled his eyes.

"I mean I don't make a habit of spending that much time with someone unless we're hooking up is all I'm saying."

"Gross, Rachel!" Tim scoffed.

"I mean I don't care if you're gay…" she lied,' Why are the pretty ones always batting for the other team?' She felt her heart sink.

"I'm not gay."

"Is Raylan?"

"Are you kidding? If a skirt swishes through our office he's trying get under it."

"Could go both ways," she tried to focus on the road and not on the growing awkwardness between them.

"We're friends," Tim stated matter-of-factly," I can talk to Ray about things I can't talk to other people about."

"Like?"

"Things that happened while I was deployed, my past and…" he shook his head," I've never thought about him like 'that' before."

"Does the door swing both ways for you?"

"Rachel," he was firm," why do you think I have a thing for Raylan?"

"The fact that he's at your house all the time, you have his shirt on, you had enough of his laundry at your house to pack him an overnight bag, and you've called him 'Ray-Ray' at least three times."

"I don't like talking about it," Tim sighed, feeling like he owed Rachel an explanation that he didn't want to give," the only other person I've ever told this stuff to is Raylan. My best friend, Jesse, well Raylan is a lot like him. Jesse and I spent days in tight spaces, sleeping huddled together to stay warm at night. Gets surprisingly cold in the desert at night, hotter than Satan's ass on taco Tuesday during the day though. Jesse and I just fit, he was my eyes and I learned to count on him and trust him," Tim's eyes watered and he wiped them on Raylan's sleeve," then Jesse got hit by an IED…he died a few days later in my arms."

"I'm—sorry," Rachel saw the sadness in his eyes.

"I went to visit his family when I got back stateside," a tear slid down his cheek," couldn't even get the words out when I saw his dad. Just hugged him and cried like a baby."

"I didn't mean to…"

"So that's why," Tim wiped his face and forced his emotions back into their metaphorical box in his head," that's why Raylan and I are so close. We were both severely abused as children and we're both broken in the same way. Nothing romantic about PTSD."

"I'm glad you two have each other then," Rachel smiled," but you know I'm always here for you too."

"Thanks," he put a hand on her shoulder," some things are just hard to talk about, no words for them really."

"I remember once when I was driving Raylan back to Lexington from Miami," she giggled," I thought he was asleep and I took his hat and tried it on. He asked me if it fit without ever opening his eyes. Scared the shit outta me."

"He loves that damn hat."


	7. Found

I took the liberty of re-writing some of the things explained in the books but left out in the tv series. Hoping die-hard fans don't skewer me for it, but I like my way better. *shrug* hope you enjoy and if you do please leave me some feedback.

* * *

CH 7 Found

Rachel parked the SUV at the airport, Art would come to get it later, the two grabbed their bags out of the trunk and made their way through the terminal. It took some time and a lot of badge-flashing to get them on the plane with their firearms, but they finally settled into their seats. Rachel shifted uneasily," You okay?" Tim asked.

"I never liked flying."

"Flying never bothered me," he smirked," it was jumping out of a perfectly good airplane that got to me."

Tim tried to sleep on the flight, Rachel kept fidgeting. They landed in Georgia and Tim dialed Art," Anything new?"

"Not yet, I have a BOLO in every state but it wouldn't be difficult to slip past if they knew what they were doing."

"Once we get there we're going straight to Key Biscayne," Tim answered," I gotta go, boss. Flight's boarding."

"You two be careful," Art sounded like his dad.

"We will, boss."

"He's concerned," Rachel said as they settled in their seats.

"Yeah," Tim rolled his jacket up and put it behind his head," I am too. Ray-Ray always told me these were some really dangerous people."

Rachel smiled at the pet name," Just as crazy as the hillbillies in our town?"

"Just in different monkey-suits," Tim rubbed his eyes and stretched.

The flight was bumpy, Rachel tried to nap and succeeded for awhile until the turbulence nearly rocked her out of her seat. She saw Tim sleeping beside her, not the most restful sleep he could be getting but she knew he was trying to save his energy for finding Raylan. She tried listening to her iPod but nothing could distract her, she ended up taking out the case file and reading over it. Tim slept fitfully, memories invading his dreams of both the war and his childhood.

—Tim was in his room doing homework, Geometry to be exact. He'd always been good at math, learning the way lines and angles sloped. He heard the door slam and knew his father had come home, he and his mother had eaten dinner already. His father had no doubt been to the bar, he came in drunk more often than sober these days. He turned out his light and slid into bed, hoping that he and his mother could avoid the wrath of his father. Hope failed him as he heard boots stomping down the hallway," Where the hell are you, Timothy?" He winced as his door opened.

"Father?" He tried to appear confident, he was fifteen now and he shouldn't have to be afraid when his dad got home.

"I thought I told you to mow the lawn."

"It was raining," he knew he was in for it.

"Shoulda done it yesterday then," his father came in and jerked his belt out of its loops on his pants.

"No," Tim sat up and pushed the blankets off of him.

"What the fuck did you say?"

"I said no," Tim found his voice," I'll mow the lawn tomorrow if it's dry enough."

"You don't get to tell me no, boy," he raised the belt and Tim stood up," Just what do you think you're doing? If your damn mama would have raised you," he started to leave and Tim was afraid he was heading to give his mom the beating intended for him.

"Stop," he blocked his father," I don't care if you hit me, I deserve it for not mowing your lawn and for back-talking you," he hung his head and hoped his father would see it as a sign of weakness.

"You're soft, Timothy," his father snarled, Tim could smell the alcohol on his breath.

"It's not mama's fault," he stared at the floor and waited. It seemed like hours before the belt whipped around his shoulder and snapped a welt on his back. He kept quiet and withstood as much punishment as he could until he finally collapsed.—

Rachel saw Tim stirring, small beads of sweat forming on the sides of his face next to his hairline. His lips formed words that weren't said, she put a hand on his leg," Tim?" She asked quietly, he didn't respond. She squeezed his thigh gently and tried again, a little louder this time," Tim?"  
Tim jolted awake, breathing heavy for a few moments as he oriented himself to where he was. He'd grabbed Rachel's wrist," I'm sorry," he let go and wiped his face.

"I'm okay," Rachel took his hand in hers and squeezed reassuringly," We're about to land."

Tim composed himself and rolled his neck,' Usually it's Raylan that wakes me up from those,' he felt his cheeks flush,' at least it wasn't a flashback from Qatar.'

—"Put your dick up," Jesse slapped the tent's flap before coming in.

"Awe you know you wanna see it," Tim grinned as he stood.

"New target," Jesse sat down on the makeshift bed next to Tim and pulled out a map.

"When do we move on it?"

"Tonight we go here," he pointed to a spot in the middle of the desert," there's a house that he's been hiding out at about here," he pointed a few spaces away from the first spot."—

On their way out Jesse stepped on the IED, that's how Tim could always tell it was a dream. He saw Jesse turn and give him a thumbs up before his boot touched the plate of the bomb. He always woke up screaming and fighting, if Raylan had stayed with him that night he was always there when Tim woke up. Tim had decked him on more than one occasion, blacked his eye and split his lip open one time when the dream had gotten too violent for him to handle. Sometimes he thought Raylan was Jesse, calling him by his friend's name and clinging to him. Raylan was patient, more patient than he should have been, more patient than any normal person would be. It was then that he started to tell Tim why, he'd completely opened up and spilled every last horrible thing that had ever happened to him. The abuse from Arlo, the beatings, the PTSD from his time in the marines, his friend dying in his arms just like Jesse had died in Tim's arms, and the two of them came to understand each other.

—"My last deployment I got sent to Kuwait," Raylan was laying on the floor in Tim's bedroom, a half-finished bottle of bourbon next to him," normal deployment, me and the other guys I was with were there to provide some extra manpower and I was teaching combat techniques and firearms training to the locals."

"Ray, you don't have to…" Tim was already embarrassed enough, the night before he'd spent fighting through flashbacks, crying on Raylan's shoulder and had even asked him not to leave his bed just so he could feel someone next to him to help chase away the demons.

"So I was making my rounds," Raylan ignored his protest," my buddy Jean was with me, and we were goofing off a little here and there because we were bored out of our fucking minds. We see this kid in the distance, he's running towards us. So we go to meet him and he collapses, we bring him into camp and get some food and water in him and let him stick around. A few days pass and we've gotten attached, we were playing ball with the kid, Jalil was his name, and teaching him some English and were trying to figure out a way to take him to the big base camp in the city to find him a good home where people would take care of him," he raised his head enough to take a long drink of bourbon," So the day before we were supposed to leave, I told Jalil to go get his stuff. He didn't have much, we'd made some makeshift toys for him and some clothes, y'know we did the best we could, and I remember him coming out of our tent with his bag over his shoulder and Jean's rifle in his hands," Raylan covered his eyes with the back of his forearm.

"He pointed the gun at me and Jean," his voice shook," so I had a choice to make, let him kill one or both of us or shoot him."

"Jesus Christ, Ray," Tim rolled onto his stomach to look down at Raylan, still on the floor. Silence hung in the air for a few minutes," What happened?" Tim dared to ask.

"I hesitated," Raylan cleared his throat," Jalil pulled the trigger and Jean shoved me out of the way and took the bullet, *my* bullet. I reacted too late, I pulled my sidearm and shot Jalil but Jean was already hit. He was hit in the chest and the stomach, Jalil had managed to get two shots off but I'd only heard one. Jean died from a punctured lung in my lap," Tim understood why Raylan was so patient with him now," I hesitated and both of them died. I got put up for an honorable discharge, I refused but was assigned to Glenco to teach the incoming Marshals firearms class and decided to take the discharge and join. I've never told anyone that story."—

Raylan had always been the strong one, made sense since he was older than Tim by a few years. Tim admired him, Raylan either never had flashbacks or he had them under control. He never woke Tim up screaming or fighting or clearing the house with his gun. Tim turned his emotions off like he'd been taught, his face went blank and he detached. The only thing that mattered was getting to Raylan and getting him away from whoever had him, he was grateful that Rachel hadn't wanted to talk more as they searched for their ride on their way out of the airport's terminal.

The orange and white colored SUV couldn't have been any more obvious, Tim and Rachel put their bags in the large trunk space and crawled into the backseat," I'm Detective Vaughn and this is Deputy U.S. Marshal Ramen, yes like the noodles."

"We have officers at every airport in Miami, just in case they try to fly out."

"I doubt they'd be able to fly out," Tim chewed on his lip.

"They could try and take your Deputy friend out of the country to—"

"From the amount of blood we found he's hurt bad," Tim wiped his hands on his pants, suddenly aware of them sweating when he remembered seeing the blood on the barroom floor and again in the van. So much blood, he hoped it was just spread out and that it wasn't that bad.

"I didn't read the reports yet," Ramen replied," My apologies, we're going to do everything we can to help you find him."

"Thank you," Rachel put a hand on Tim's shoulder to bring him back to reality," Tim's been working very closely with Raylan over the last few months."

"I understand," Detective Vaughn smirked," if something happened to Noodles here…" he nudged the other man," I'd be an absolute wreck and there would be a pile of bodies in my wake."

The rest of the ride to their hotel was pretty quiet, Tim staring out the window as if he expected to somehow find Raylan walking down the street. The Hilton Hotel was big and fancy, Tim barely noticed. He went up to their room and put his overnight bags down, pulled out his laptop and got to work. He poured over the case files of every major drug dealer in the area and researched ways to get back and forth from Miami to Key Biscayne taking notes as needed. Rachel checked in with Art, Vaughn and 'Noodles', as he was respectively nicknamed, were out on the street talking to their CI's and trying to find out if they'd seen anyone matching Raylan's description with little success. Tim decided to go down to a local cafe' and get a feel for the area, he remembered Raylan telling him about a little hole in the wall cafe' that he always went to and it was only a few blocks from the Hilton.

He sat down at a table overlooking the beach, the food was just as good as Raylan had described it. Despite him being drunk off of a morphine drip after he'd been shot by Doyle, he'd been able to tell Tim all about their black bean soup, he was a sucker for authentic Mexican food come to find out.

—Tim had been propped up in the same position for hours on the plastic couch next to the bed Raylan was sleeping in. He'd insisted that Raylan stay for a few days, despite the protests and complaints that came from his partner. It wasn't until they'd dug the slug out of his side and stitched him up that Tim had seen Raylan show how tired he was and how bad that had hurt," Hungry?"

Raylan half-opened his eyes, the combination of antibiotics and sedatives keeping him complacent so he'd sit still and rest," Hmmm?"

"Are you hungry?" Tim repeated," I'll get you whatever you want."

"I'd shoot someone— for some black bean soup— and some taquitos," his words came out much slower than normal, pausing in between breaths like even talking took all of his energy.

"Didn't know you liked Mexican food."

"Real Mexican," he snuggled into the pillow," not that shit you get from Taco Bell."

"No one likes that shit," Tim smiled," it's convenient."

"Tastes like shit," he smiled and started to drift back to sleep.

"You have a place in mind that you like around here?"

"In Miami—, there's a place on the beach," he licked his lips," best taquitos I've ever had."

"Okay, I'll see what I can find," Tim pulled out his phone and started looking up Mexican restaurants in the area. If Raylan wanted Mexican food, he was gonna get it.

"I went to La Morinita—right before I shot—Tommy Bucks," Raylan's drawl was thick and his eyes were closed again.

"He pulled first," Tim was deciding between two different places and looking at the reviews on them.

"Yeah—he pulled first."

"Ray-Ray, you should get some rest while I'm out," Tim felt around in the sheets for the Morphine pump.

"Y'know why—they called me that?"

"Not a clue, but you're hurt and you need to get some sleep," Tim pressed the button, Raylan blinked a few times," Stop fighting to stay awake," he fussed," I can push this again," he held up the tiny remote attached to the IV pole.

"Okay, you win Timmy."

"I'll be back soon," Tim pulled a blanket over him, covering his chest so he wouldn't get cold. Raylan hated those hospital gowns, refusing to wear one. He'd had Tim help him into his boxers and a pair of sweatpants as soon as he could stand.

"Be careful," Raylan's last words before he drifted back to sleep, and there it was.

Tim smiled,' Typical Ray, always worried about everyone else; but you gotta worry about yourself too y'know,' he waited a few minutes until he was sure Raylan was asleep and quietly closed the door behind him.—

Rachel sat down across from him," Got a lead?" He asked, surprised she'd found him this easily.

"Nothing more than some suspicious activity in a few places, and Art calling me every five minutes to see how things are going. Food here any good?" Rachel glanced down at the plate of food Tim was picking at.

"It's great," he looked down as if suddenly remembering there was food in front of him," Raylan told me about this place when he was in the hospital after Doyle shot him."

"I didn't know he liked Mexican food."

"Me either," Tim shook his head," getting Ray to drop the facade of being a smug smart ass isn't easy. He usually has to be drunk or heavily sedated."

"Tim?" Rachel started, then shook her head.

"Huh?"

"Nevermind," she felt stupid, the far away look in his eyes was gut-wrenching.

They ate in silence, Tim thinking about all the things he wanted to do to whoever it was that had taken his friend. Realizing how close of a friend Raylan actually was, scenarios playing out in his head of him kicking a door down and going in guns blazing to save the day,' Y'know I love that shit,' Tim had a half-smile on his face.

Tim decided to go down the list of names Officer Noodles had given him,' What kind of a name is Ramen?' He'd almost laughed aloud when he'd introduced himself but managed, under the circumstances, to contain himself. Rachel went with him and together they started checking off names. A street thug that looked no more than twenty three gave them some shit and said he didn't want to talk to the fuzz," Who even talks like that?" Tim wanted to punch that smug looking face.

"Well these people took our partner," Rachel informed him.

"So some tough guys took down a cop, why should I give a fuck?" DJ Feelz they called him, his real name was Clancy Barren.

"Look Clancy," Tim grabbed him by the neck of his oversized t-shirt," if you don't want me beating the living shit out of you for…"

"Tim," Rachel put a hand on his shoulder," he's not worth it."

"If I find out you had anything to do with my partner's disappearance…"

"Fine, I saw the picture, if I see your boyfriend I'll let you know," he held up the card with Tim and Rachel's cell numbers on it.

"He's not my boyfriend, he's my partner," Tim didn't know why he felt the need to explain himself.

"Okay, so the two of you took things to the next level," DJ Feelz put his hands up, showing his palms defensively," If y'all wanna have sword fights with your dicks I don't give a—" Tim lunged back at DJ Feelz and Rachel put her arm out to stop him.

"I suggest you find somewhere else to be…" Rachel shot him a warning glare.

Tim got back in the SUV, he put his head in his hands and tried to get himself back under control," Any other leads?" He articulated each word slowly to help calm him.

"Nothing," Rachel sighed heavily. It had been almost four days that Raylan had been missing and she was losing hope of finding him alive. Normally when a missing person case came into the office, said missing person was presumed dead after the first forty-eight hours and they started looking for a body. This was the end of day three, her hope was starting to fade.

They chased their tales until night fell, Tim reluctantly going back to the Hilton with Rachel. Their room had two beds, he showered quickly and returned to the files they'd picked up from the local PD. Rachel noted his hair curled when it was wet, she showered and came back to find him still there at the desk looking over the same pages repeatedly," You should get some sleep," she crawled into her bed.

"We have to find him soon," Tim dragged himself away from the paperwork and took two aspirin for the headache that was creeping its way into his skull.

"We're doing everythi—"

"And it's not good enough," Tim put his sidearm on the nightstand.

"Get some sleep, hunni," Rachel almost immediately regretted the pet name. Tim grunted and pulled the blankets up over his shoulder, he slept on his side facing his firearm. She studied his face for a few minutes and realized he had literally fallen asleep in seconds, a skill he must have picked up in the Rangers no doubt.

He slept fitfully, even though he was able to sleep, his dreams filled with a bloody cowboy. Rachel heard him moaning and moving beneath the blankets, she got out of her bed and went to him," Tim?" She called softly, not wanting to startle him. No response, his eyes moving restlessly beneath their lids and his mouth forming words she couldn't make out," Tim, are you okay?" She reached out and put her hand on him, shaking him gently. His lips curled into a snarl and before his eyes even opened he'd grabbed her wrist and thrown her over his body, he straddled her chest and pulled her arm painfully to his hip. His eyes flew open as he reached for his gun on the nightstand," TIM!" She screamed.

"Oh my God," he let her go and recoiled, launching himself backwards and falling off of the bed and onto the floor. Sweat dripped down his face," Rachel…I'm so sorry, I would never—" Rachel had followed him to the floor," Please,' he pleaded and scooted away from her. She could see he was shaking, his face flushed," Don't—" he put his hands out, palm up to keep her from getting any closer to him," I can't—too much—"

"Okay, Tim," Rachel sat on the floor across from him, rubbed her wrist and flexed her fingers," I'm okay."

"I'm so sorry," he wiped his face on his t-shirt.

"This is why Raylan stays at your house."

He nodded," Yeah, I've got PTSD."

"Tim maybe you should—"

"It doesn't get this bad often," he forced himself to breathe slower," Ray knows what to do when I…" he frowned, searching for the right words," freak out," not a good selection but his head was still spinning," I asked for separate rooms."

"I see why," Rachel extended a hand," What can I do to help you?"

"We have to find Ray," Tim pulled his knees to his chest and ran his hands through his hair, flashbacks and nightmares mixing and replaying in scrambled orders in his mind.

"We're gonna find him."

"Flannel," Tim staggered to his feet, Rachel moved to help him and he shook his head and stumbled. He barely caught himself on the desk and used it to help him balance, he went to his bags and dropped to his knees. Rachel could tell it was taking everything he had to keep in control, he frantically pulled clothes out of his duffel bag until he found what he was looking for. He pulled a familiar button-down flannel out and buried his face in it, his breathing slowed and he had almost stopped shaking. He stood up with more ease now and went into the bathroom. He rinsed the sweat off and when he came back to get into bed Rachel noticed he had slipped Raylan's shirt on, she didn't acknowledge it and he got back into bed and closed his eyes.

When she woke up the next morning, Tim was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. He was still wearing Raylan's shirt and she noticed he hadn't put another shirt underneath it. He didn't seem to notice her waking up, she lustfully traced the lines of his chest down to his stomach where a small patch of hair lead into the waistband of his sweatpants. She rolled onto her back and stretched," Made coffee for you," he nodded at the coffee pot.

'Oh no,' she kicked herself mentally,' I hope he didn't notice me staring,' she rolled out of bed and grabbed a styrofoam cup to pour herself some coffee. Tim hadn't been himself since Raylan had gone missing, he didn't crack his usual jokes, he didn't give her shit about the way she drove the SUV, he was about to snap. Last night was proof that Tim's brains were pretty well scrambled," Thank you," she sat across from him.

"Did some research and I have a lead I wanna go check out today," he sipped his coffee.

"Okay, let's grab breakfast on the way," she got up and went to her bags to grab her clothes. While in the bathroom she texted Art,' Tim's losing it,' she typed and hovered over the send button. She wondered if she should tell Art, wondered if he'd pull Tim off the case, wondered what Tim would do if he did. Instead she edited it,' Tim is very high-strung and we're running out of leads,' and pressed send. As she was brushing her teeth her phone buzzed, Art had texted back,' I'm coming down there today, I know the two of them are close and I have on good authority from a CI a possible location of someone who either has Raylan or knows who does,' she smiled and texted back,' You'd better text Tim that,' to which Art responded,' Will do, you two be careful,' she pulled her hair back into a bun and finished getting dressed.

"Art's gotta lead too," Tim was pulling his pants over his hips, she almost didn't comprehend what he'd said. She'd always wondered what he looked like under that shirt and now here he stood, bare chested and simply breathtaking. He caught her staring this time," You ready?" He pulled his shirt over his head and tucked it into his pants before sliding his belt through the loops.

"Yeah," she grabbed her holster, put it on her hip and then picked up her jacket.

"Too hot for that," Tim shook his head," Besides we stick out anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Well for one, I'm white as a fucking ghost and we both have what these people would call a hillbilly accent," he fastened his holster and put his backup pistol on his ankle holster.

"True," she slipped her shoes on and tossed the jacket onto the bed.

"Let's go check this lead while we wait for Art."

'So we're just not gonna talk about what happened last night?' She thought.

"I'm driving," he picked the keys up from the table and headed out the door.

A few hours later they were no closer to finding Raylan than when they'd started, their leads kept them running in circles," Key Biscayne can't be that fuckin' big," Tim scoffed," I'm going back there when the next jet ski's available."

"Art's on his way too," Rachel sighed," going to Key Biscayne is a long shot if we don't know where we're going or what to look for."

"I have to do something, Rachel. He's been gone for four days, I know if it's crossed my mind it has to have crossed everyone else's too. After the first forty-eight hours we usually start looking for a body."

"No one's said anything about…"

"They don't have to," he said," the locals were happy to help us find one of our Deputy Marshals until they found out he'd been gone for three days. We've barely heard from them and they haven't sent anyone to check on us."

"I don't know, Tim," Rachel didn't know how to break the news, she was also beginning to doubt they'd find Raylan alive, if they found him at all.  
Tim paid for a jet ski for the day, he put his bag over his shoulder and hopped on. Rachel looked a little green, but she did the same. No way she was leaving Tim to do this by himself. The two revved up their engines and started for Key Biscayne, the water was crystal clear and shining. In any other circumstance they'd have been having fun and racing each other on the waves. Tim didn't appear to be capable of smiling these last few days, not that Rachel had seen him smile a lot before this mess happened; but there was definitely a vast difference between Tim when Raylan was around. Raylan held a comfort and a way to calm the storms in his head. They reached the beach and parked their skis, Tim put his sidearm back on his belt and started walking.

"So what's the plan?" Rachel asked.

"What do you mean?"

"We're just gonna start walking and hope we find him?"

"I don't know," Tim shook his head," I don't know what else to do!"

"We've got a BOLO out on him, we've hit the streets every single hour of daylight and sometimes even into the night. We have to rest, our bodies need food and sleep," Rachel approached him gently, she put a hand out and then took it back remembering what had happened the last time she touched him.

"I know, let's start with abandoned areas," Tim saw her pull her hand back,' It never mattered to Ray, when I had flashbacks he always knew what to do. Even when I hit him, he never gave up,' he remembered the flashbacks, the blood on Raylan's face where he'd split his lip,' he's never afraid of me. Even when the flashbacks get bad,' he kicked at the sand.

The pair walked up the beach and towards the town, resorts scattered everywhere and tourists coming and going. Laughing and playing with their families, Tim envied them. He felt a sense of urgency growing within him, his chest hurt, they were running out of time. More accurately, Raylan was running out of time.

A few hours later, Art landed in Miami. He usually enjoyed traveling, even though he rarely got to anymore. He texted Rachel and she told him they were in Key Biscayne, figuring he'd head there to meet them after he spoke with Raylan's old boss. He took a cab to the Marshal's Office.

Palm trees lined the street, he'd never seen so much skin. Women walked around in bikinis, or less, and he figured out why Raylan loved it here so much. It was like a strip club without the cover charge and in broad daylight,' How do strippers even make money out here?' He wondered. The station was a large stucco type building that looked more like a resort than a police station. He entered and was met by a bleach blonde woman at the desk,' Raylan would love you, only for a night or two; but he'd lock himself in a hotel with you for at least three days,' he chuckled to himself.

"Can I help you?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm looking for the Chief Deputy Marshal. I'm from Kentucky, Art Mullen, and one of my deputies has gone missing. Reports have lead us to believe he's here."

"Oh you're Chief Mullen," she smiled," Deputy Givens' former supervisor is out of the country right now extraditing a fugitive; but I can let you talk to the two officers that your other deputies spoke with and their supervisor. He's been handling the case thus far, there's a BOLO out on Mr. Givens."

Hearing someone talk about Raylan that referred to him as 'Mr. Givens' was strange," Yes please, do you know if any progress has been made?"

"I sure don't," she picked up the phone," Chief Art Mullen here to see you about the Givens case," Art didn't bother correcting that she'd gotten his title wrong," third floor, office fifteen A."

"Thank you again, you have a lovely day," Art headed for the elevators.

"Art Mullen?" A skinny man sat at a desk in office fifteen A.

"Last time I checked."

"I'm Officer Ramen, yes like the noodles," the man rolled his eyes," I went out with your deputies day before yesterday when they got here. We've gotta BOLO out on Ray-Ray and every cop in the area is looking for him. We take care of our own, although we've let your deputies kinda run loose so if they happen to do or say anything to piss off the locals we can just shrug and say they're not from around here."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate that," Art was taken aback at the nickname," I've worked with Raylan and I've come to know that he's…I'm sorry, Ray-Ray?"

"Yeah," Officer Noodles snickered," when he came to work for us he was straight out of Glenco. He had been teaching firearms for so long he didn't know how to talk to civilians anymore, his days in the core probably didn't do him any favors in the socializing department. So anyway, he goes to interview a guy about Tommy Bucks. Guy gets smart with him and in the report he made he said the guy attacked him and he defended himself; but you shoulda seen the guy after Ray-Ray was done with him. Ray-Ray didn't have a fucking scratch on him save a little bruising on his cheek. The other guy, I don't remember his name but I remember he was wearing sharkskin, had three broken ribs, a broken nose, a cracked collarbone and a gash above his left eye. When he was brought to the hospital and they asked him what happened all the guy would say was 'Ray-Ray' and it just kinda stuck."

"Wow, so he was a joy to deal with while he was here too then, huh?" Art laughed.

"It was never boring, boss didn't like it because of all the paperwork."

"Yeah, I can sympathize with that, I'm that boss that hates paperwork and gets on his ass when he makes more of it for us to do."

"So you said over the phone you have a lead?" Officer Noodles folded his hands and leaned in.

"It's something Boyd Crowder said while we were questioning him," Art adjusted his cap," he said that the guys who took them said something about 'Jesus Saves'."

"There's a few abandoned churches and also churches that have been made into other things now," he rubbed his chin.

"He said they'd be in Key Biscayne, although they'd drugged him with oxy and he called it biscuits."

"I think I know where he is," he picked up his phone and dialed," get a team together, full gear. That BOLO that we had out on Givens, focus efforts around the old Immanuel church next to the diner on the coast of Key Biscayne," he paused," y'know the church that has that big obnoxious sign on it, the one we shut down after Ray-Ray shot Tommy," another pause," I'll let them know, thank you."

"So?"

"Art, I hope I can call you that without disrespect," Art nodded," we're gonna get you and your deputies fitted with some vests and riot gear, call them and tell them to get their asses over here now. There was a church that Tommy Bucks was using to package his drugs, old-style catholic church. Even had a fake priest and held masses for God's sake, but if you looked closely you noticed all the guys knew each other and the services were just cover-ups."

"It's familiar and out of the way," Art was following him down the hall.

"And Ray-Ray would recognize it," Noodles unlocked the cage that held rifles, vests, handguns and some gear that looked like whoever was wearing was entering a war zone, which Art guessed they were about to," It's where he got shot the first time."

"He got shot?"

"It wasn't a bad hit," he pulled a vest out and handed it to Art who tried it on," He got hit in the back, clean through and through and came out right above his hip. More of a flesh wound, but it shook him. He was in over his head, didn't wait for backup. He drew and fired and killed three of the cartel's guys before he managed to get back to his car."

"Jesus," Art was inspecting a shotgun," I suspended him for being reckless in Kentucky, he got his ass beat and it seemed to have been enough to get him off his game, so I thought I'd force him to take some time off."

"Did it work?"

"Nope, he went back to the Bennett land without his badge and was about to try and stop a double homicide he'd gotten a tip about. A fourteen-year old girl was on her way to kill the woman who'd murdered her father, Raylan went in and long story short got himself shot. Only reason he's not dead is because of Tim."

"You mean the little guy? Gutterson?"

"Yeah, he was a sniper in the Army," Art explained.

"No shit," Art nodded," well get this, Raylan drove himself to the hospital after he got shot. Bleedin' all over the fuckin' squad car, he walks into the emergency room and is checking himself in before his adrenaline dumps and he collapses in the lobby. The receptionist said she didn't even know he'd been shot, the doctor said he was in shock. I think it's from his days as a Marine and he just went to that place where nothing phased him and he ignored the pain, he's a tough sonovabitch I'll give him that."

"Yeah," Art smiled, maybe there was hope they'd find him alive.

"I went to see him in the hospital, y'know they keep you for about three days if you've been shot, and he was asking for the case file! Said he was gonna get Tommy Bucks if it was the last thing he did. Honestly I believed it might be the last thing he'd do, didn't seem to shake him until later. He got careless and jumpy for a few days, not like him at all. I sent him to therapy, told him either he went and got this shit out of his system or he was off the case. The therapist told me he sat across from her and flirted the entire time."

"Let me guess, she was a blonde?" Art rolled his eyes when Noodles nodded," he ended up sleeping with her, huh?"

"Yeah, you *do* know Ray-Ray pretty well. You call your deputies?"

"I sent them both a text, phones went to voicemail."

"Service in Key Biscayne is shotty at best."

Art's phone rang as if on cue, he put it on speakerphone," Mullen."

"Hey Art, we've got suspicious activity around here. What's the name of that old church?" Tim's voice was static but discernible.

"The old Immanuel, it has a warehouse behind it and a 'Jesus Saves' banner above the doors," Noodles answered.

"Art, I think we found something."

"Gutterson, you wait for us to get there with a team."

"No time, boss," the sounds of a zipper being undone, Tim's rifle case," send an ambulance," he hung up. 


	8. Rescue

At this point even I don't know where this is gonna go, but I'm along for the ride! Looking like romance is creeping in here...

* * *

CH 8 Rescue

Tim clipped the straps on his rifle and put it over his shoulder, barrel down and ready to use. Rachel followed behind him as they rounded the corner, they'd seen several vans passing this way and they all seemed to be going to the same place," Y'know they're gonna see us," she said quietly.

"Art knows where we are," Tim replied," I've turned on location sharing on my phone to his as well. Even if they take us somewhere he can find us," he stalked through some shrubbery.

"I think we should wait for…"

"You can wait if you want to," Tim was firm, he turned to look at her," I am acting on my own at the moment, I'm probably gonna get bitched at and catch nine kinds of hell. Not only from Art but from whoever is in charge over here; but if it means that I can get Ray outta there, I'm going in. Even if I go in alone and that's fine, I won't think less of you or be pissy because you wanna obey orders."

"I swear you're starting act like Raylan," Rachel smiled," I'm down."

Tim put his back to the wall of the church, he turned and took a deep breath. He walked in like nothing was going on, Rachel on his heels. A few men were inside, moving some boxes around," Can we help you?" One of the men approached them," and may I ask why you've brought guns into God's house?"

"I'm looking for a missing person," Tim pulled a picture of Raylan out of his pocket," have you seen this man?"

"I have not left this place for a few days," the man dodged the question.

"He's been missing for awhile now, we have reason to believe he's here."

"As I said, I am sorry, I cannot help you."

"Well, see my partner and I are gonna look around and make sure," Tim nodded to Rachel who walked past him and started peeking in the hallways.

"I need you to leave, if you must come back can you leave your guns outside?"

"No can do, father," Tim frowned," there could be some bad men in God's house today, I'd like to find them."

Tim followed after Rachel, nothing in the church that they could see," Are you officers satisfied?"

"Deputy U.S. Marshals," Tim corrected him," I'm sorry I'm rude, my name is Tim Gutterson and this is Rachel Brooks," he walked to the side door and went outside.

"This man you are looking for, what did he do?"

"He's my partner," Tim turned to glare at the priest," and if I find out he's here and you knew about it…"

"You'll what?" A voice from outside called.

The sun was blinding as he stepped outside," Sir, we're here looking for a missing deputy. He's been missing for—"

"Four days?" Tim's vision started to clear up," I heard about it. His face is all over the news."

"Have you seen him?" Tim noticed the piece on the man's hip.

"No Officers," he crossed his arms.

"If this is a house of God, why do you need a that piece?" Tim nodded at his hip.

"I am security, many people try to interrupt God's work."

"I'd like to take a look at your warehouse."

"You have seen enough, please let us get back to work."

"No can do, boss," Tim rested his hand on his holster," Once I make sure there's nothing funny about your work I'll be on my way."

"You should leave," the man rested his hand on his holster as well.

"Sorry boss," Tim felt the cool calmness wash over him, the feeling he always got right before he took out a target overseas. The man drew, Tim wasn't as fast as Raylan but he drew and fired. Rachel secured the door, drawing her gun and scanning the area. Tim felt a sting in his shoulder,' Bullet grazed me,' he ignored it and moved towards the doors of the warehouse.

Rachel followed and they got on either side of the door, Tim mouthed 'one…two…three' and they both turned and kicked the doors open. People scattered, the warehouse was full. Cots strewn everywhere, men with machine guns, Tim's senses reeled. He was aware of the men raising their guns in their direction and bolted. He ran along the wall taking cover behind boxes and tables, he waited before he popped up and started shooting back. His rifle kicked into his shoulder and he felt something trickle down his chest, he tried to focus and managed to take out one of the gunmen. The air around him seemed to vibrate and his ears rang, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed Art. He knew he wouldn't be able to hear whatever his boss said, the phone picked up and he yelled into the speaker," Found something, get over here. We're pinned down and taking fire!" Then he put the phone back into his pocket, not bothering to hang up so he could be traced just in case. He peeked around the table and saw Rachel running to the back of the room. Women in masks were screaming and running away, more men with guns were pouring in. Rachel disappeared down a flight of stairs, Tim fired a few more shots and made a break for it to follow her. He vaulted over tables and cots, feeling the whoosh of air rush past him as bullets flew. Part of one of the cots fell apart under his weight and he fell, his ankle twisting. He felt a pop and pain shot up his leg, he wasn't far away from those stairs, he had to make it. He rolled and shot one of the men in the chest, the man stumbled but kept coming,' Great they're wearing vests,' Tim scrambled and threw himself down the stairs. Rachel was holding the door open and shooting at the men after them, he made it inside and she slammed the door behind them.

"Shit!" Tim yelled as he sat up, his shoulder was on fire and his ankle throbbed.

"You're hit," Rachel locked the door, thankful it was a metal one and it would be a few minutes before anyone could break it down.

"I'm fine," Tim forced his body to stand up," He's here."

"Tim you're bleeding," Rachel grabbed him.

"So is Ray!" Tim snapped, the look in his eyes feral.

Gunfire on the other side of the door, they heard shouting," Backup's here," Rachel started searching the room," At least let me see if it went through," she flipped on the light.

"RAYLAN!" Tim screamed, Rachel followed his eyes to the corner of the room. An old futon was pushed up against the wall and Raylan was cuffed to it. They both rushed to him, Rachel was closer and made it there first. His face was pale, lips were blue, he wasn't moving,' Oh no,' she felt tears in her eyes,' no no no, he's…' she turned and grabbed Tim, holding him back.

"Rachel move!" Tim fought her and won, shoving her aside and dropping to his knees next to the futon," Ray?" He was afraid to even touch him, he saw his partner's blue lips and paled face and searched desperately for a pulse," No, no Ray, c'mon," tears streamed down his face," You can't do this to me!" Tears streamed down his face, he tried moving Raylan who he realized was zip tied to the frame. He pulled a knife off of his belt, cutting the ties he pulled Raylan into his lap. Rachel covering her mouth and frozen in place started sniffling," I'm sorry, Ray…"

Raylan had heard the gunfire, he was barely aware of where he was. His fingers numb from being tied too tight to the frame of this God-awful futon, his mind was foggy and he couldn't move. He heard someone scream his name, it sounded far away but he recognized the voice. Whoever it was had sat next to him, they were apologizing and he finally placed the voice,' Holy shit, Tim,' he tried to respond, but his tongue felt thick and numb in his mouth.

"Let's get you out of these," Tim's voice again, his wrists were freed and he felt Tim pick him up.

"T-tim?" He managed his name, inhaling at the familiar scent of his cologne.

"Ray," Tim looked down, Raylan squinted and saw he was crying," Jesus Ray, I thought I'd lost you."

"M'okay," Raylan lied, he reached up and tried to grab Tim's arm. Wanting to comfort him, wanting him to stop crying and see that he was alive.

"Let's have a look at him," a paramedic approached, Tim leaned back but didn't move Raylan again. The medic pulled his eyelids open and shined a pen light in each of his eyes," Pupils are blown," he pulled his tie off and unbuttoned his shirt," Got a lot of blood," he made his way down Raylan's chest and Tim winced as he saw large purple bruises all over him," Broken ribs, some puncture wounds and lacerations," he peeled more of the black fabric away, the smell hit first," Infected GSW," the medic coughed. Raylan squirmed, gritting his teeth and arching away from the medic's touch. Tim felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, Raylan's side was swollen and oozing blood and pus," Let's load him and get him out of here."

"Tim's been…" Rachel started.

"I twisted my ankle," he snapped at her and shot her a glare," I'm going with him."

"Tim you stay with Raylan," Art found his voice," Keep me and Rachel updated on his condition."

"You got it, boss," Tim called back. Raylan was trying to move," Hey Ray, we're getting you some help. They're gonna put you on a stretcher and take you to a hospital," Raylan grabbed at his arm," I'm staying with you."

"Let's get him on here," the medic had gotten help, Tim stood and helped them put Raylan on the stretcher. They put a blanket over him and an oxygen mask over his face," Mr. Givens, we're gonna move fast," they secured him and started for the door. Tim followed, limping but trying to hide it. He saw a helicopter waiting for them, they piled in and started the trip to Miami's hospital.

Sweat dripped down Raylan's face, he hadn't shaved in almost five days and his hair was matted to his head from a combination of sweat and blood. He was burning up, his face pale and his lips still had a bluish tint to them, he had bags under his eyes but he was alive. Tim took some gauze from one of the cabinets and poured some water on it from a bottle, he wiped Raylan's forehead and started cleaning the blood off of him. Raylan closed his eyes, he was sure he was dying but at least Tim was there and he wouldn't be alone. Tim was talking to him, he couldn't make everything out but it was reassuring. The medic had started an IV and he felt the cool rush of fluids running through his veins, then the pull of pain meds. Finally, everything hurt so much he just wanted it to stop. He was tired of being strong, tired of fighting to stay alive, whatever happened happened at this point. He smiled at Tim and closed his eyes.

Tim kept up with the medics as they ran down the hallway, Raylan's vital weren't stabilizing like they should and his blood pressure kept dropping. The medics decided to bring him straight to the surgeon and see if they could get that bullet out and maybe level his vitals out. He was still unconscious but his breath came in short gasps and he strained against the belts keeping him on the gurney," You're gonna be okay, Ray," Tim rubbed his face one last time before he was brought to the operating room.

"You need to be looked at," a woman that he hadn't noticed before was leading him away," I didn't want to say anything before your friend went to surgery but you're bleeding."

"Raylan…" Tim let her bring him to an exam room.

"You're no good to him if you collapse," she closed the door behind them," I'm Brittany, I'm gonna get you cleaned up. Can you take your shirt off for me…?"

"Tim," he started to pull his shirt off when the pain hit, he grimaced.

"Let me help you," Brittany pulled on a pair of gloves," so what happened to your friend?"

"He was abducted in Kentucky," she put a hand on Tim's chest and motioned for him to lay down," they brought him here because he killed a member of the cartel and they wanted revenge."

"I'm giving you a local so I can get the slug out," he nodded," then you need to get that ankle looked at, it's starting to swell. If you're in pain I can get you something for it."

"No," he answered quickly," I have to be there when he wakes up."

"Okay, okay," he could feel her digging around trying to find the bullet," I got it," he heard it clink into a tray," I'll stitch you up and send you for an x-ray."

"Will they come get me if Raylan wakes up?"

"Your guy's a hero y'know," she said," so yeah, if he asks for you they're coming to get you. I heard you went in guns blazing to get him out too."

"Just trying to keep him from getting killed," Tim flexed his fingers, his arm felt like it was on fire.

"You did good," she put some gauze over his wound and started taping it," It'll be awhile before he wakes up, you should let me get you more comfortable."

"I'll take another shot of lidocaine but I'm not interested in narcotics."

"Suit yourself," she wrote on her notepad," Take this down to x-ray, the nurse will get you a wheelchair."

"How far away is it from Raylan?"

"Same floor, other side of the hospital."

"Fine," he sighed, Brittany stepped outside. She came back with a syringe and a wheelchair, a nurse following her," Hold still," she pushed the needle into his deltoid," take care of yourself."

"Yes ma'am," he slid off the table and into the wheelchair, covering his chest with a hospital gown. The nurse wheeled him to x-ray, he drummed his fingers on the arm of the wheelchair while he waited. His cell rang," Gutterson."

"Tim, Rachel and I are at the hospital. Any news on Raylan?" Art's voice.

"He's in surgery."

"Rachel said you got hit."

"Yeah, I got the slug out and stitched up. I'm at x-ray now for my ankle."

"We're almost there," Art sounded tired.

"I'll see you in a minute, boss."

The x-ray tech came to get him, he knew his ankle was broken from the way it felt. His toes were numb and he prayed he wouldn't need surgery, Raylan needed him and he couldn't afford to be hurt too. As he finished with the x-rays Art and Rachel met him in the hallway.

"Tim," Rachel hugged him.

"Good to see you," Art smiled," why didn't you wait on our team? You went and got yourself shot and probably broke your foot."

"I'm fine," Tim waved his hand," Raylan couldn't wait."

"As your boss I'm supposed to fuss at you, but as your friend you did good."

"Thanks, Art."

Twenty minutes later a doctor had come to get Tim, Rachel and Art followed to the consult room," Mr. Gutterson?"

"All day."

"Your ankle has been broken in three different places, I don't think it requires surgery unless we can't set it properly. I still want to put you under to get the bones in the right places, it'll be more comfortable for you."

"I'm fine, doc," Tim shrugged," Give me some locals and send me to Raylan's room."

"I can take care of Raylan, you need to get your foot—" Art started and from the look on Tim's face he knew he was fighting a losing battle.

"All due respect doc, either you mildly sedate me and give me some locals and set this thing or I'm wheeling my ass up to wait on my partner to get out of surgery. I promised him I'd be there when he woke up."

"I can do that for you, I've heard about what you and your partners busted."

"I'm sorry?" Tim looked confused.

"There wasn't just drug trafficking going on in that warehouse," Rachel answered," there was human trafficking as well."

"What…" he tried to process what she'd said.

"Yeah, they were taking bids on who got to take Raylan."

"They were going to *sell* him?!" Tim gasped.

"Apparently," Art rubbed the back of his neck," if you'd have waited for us he'd be gone."

"Holy shit," a nurse was sliding an IV into his forearm, he didn't notice. She hung a bag of fluids and pushed a mild sedative, Tim felt his eyes get heavy," Nothing too strong," he realized his words were slurred.

"Tim, we will put you in a room with him when you get out," Art nodded to the nurse who followed the first sedative with a syringe of something else, the tension was visibly leaving his shoulders," Raylan won't get out of surgery for at least another hour, you'll be up and about by then."

"I can get you in a walking boot if you let me do it this way," the doctor offered.

"Fine, but I want to see Ray when he wakes up."

"I can do this across the hall, but I'm going to have to ask you two to step out please," the doctor pointed at the door," I'll come get you when I'm finished."

"So how are we gonna break it to him?" Rachel leaned against the wall.

"I don't know," Art shook his head. On their way up to see Tim they'd stopped to check on Raylan, the nurse said he was still in surgery and wouldn't be out for a few hours; however there was a chance he'd be put in a medically induced coma until he stabilized. He would go straight from the operating room to intensive care.

An hour passed, Art and Rachel met Tim in a temporary recovery room," Ray?" Tim drawled as the drugs started to wear off and he woke up.

"Just us," Rachel put her hand on his, he squeezed it gently.

"Where's Ray?" He shifted on the bed.

"Still in surgery, but they're closing him up I think," Art sat in a chair next to his bed.

"I have some clothes in the SUV," Tim sat up.

"I got them," Rachel gestured to a duffel bag.

"Good," Tim started to get off the bed and Art held up his hand.

"Tim, we need to talk."

"I told you I'm going to see Ray."

"Raylan's going to the intensive care unit."

"Still going, he could wake up any minute."

"That's the thing," Art handed him his clothes," he's not waking up for awhile."

Tim felt his blood run cold," What do you mean he's not waking up?"

"The surgeon said the infection from having an untreated gunshot wound is bad, if he can't stabilize him they're putting him in a medically-induced coma until the antibiotics start working."

"Jesus," Tim pulled the hospital gown away from him and saw Rachel blush out of the corner of her eye. He realized the doctor had taken his pants off to get better access to his ankle, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

"How's your shoulder?" Rachel looked concerned.

"Hurts, but I'm okay," he reached for his shirt.

"Can I help you?" She offered.

"Please," he let her help him get his shirt and sweatpants on. Art had grabbed his favorite sweats, the soft ones. They had the Army star on the side and 'RANGER' in big bold letters going down the leg. He didn't care about showing off, but damn they were comfortable.

"I got your Marshal jacket and badge in case anyone wondered who you were," Art handed him his badge as he sat down in the wheelchair," I'm giving you a direct order, Tim."

"Boss please…" Art held up a hand, Rachel was reattaching his IV.

"You're staying with Raylan," Art smiled," I'm not sure if we were able to get all of those guys who were holding him and those other people there. So, you're staying with him to keep him safe, no firearms allowed in the ICU but," he shrugged," I doubt you'll need it."

"Yes sir, Chief," Tim grinned.

"I've informed the doctors on the floor, there will be a federal agent outside his door as well. That one will have a gun, you keep Deputy Givens calm and safe," Art gave him a thumbs up, sounding official.

"Yes sir."

"Besides, you're his emergency contact."

"What about Winona?" Tim asked, a little shocked.

"What *about* Winona?" Art repeated," Tim she left him. She got pregnant and walked out."

"He didn't tell me."

"He didn't tell anyone," Art replied," but even before she left, you've always been his emergency contact," Tim smiled.

Raylan heard voices, his head was thundering. He tested his fingers and found one was trapped,' Probably a pulsox,' his head was foggy,' these drugs must be good,' he tried taking a breath. Stabbing pain filled his chest and he gasped for air, he tried to open his eyes. His body wouldn't respond and it terrified him.

"Ray?" Tim's voice, he fought harder to open his eyes," Ray, you just got out of surgery, relax,' he was trying, everything hurt and he was freezing. His body shivered and he tried to open his eyes again," Raylan just lay still,' he obeyed.

Tim sat on the edge of Raylan's bed, watching him writhe as he woke up," If you can keep him calm and his vitals are stable we can just manage his pain and we won't have to put him in a coma," the doctor stood by, watching the monitors.

"Ray?" Tim spoke softly, Raylan was responding but his training had kicked in and he was trying to fight," Ray, you just got out of surgery, relax," Tim wiped his face with a damp cloth. He turned his head towards Tim and tried to move again," Raylan just lay still," it was more of an order, it worked and Tim breathed a sigh of relief as Raylan relaxed.

"That's good," the doctor was hanging another bag of antibiotics," we're keeping a close eye on him, but if you notice any changes at all please push the call button."

"Yes sir," Tim was running his fingers through Raylan's hair, his breathing steady and even now.

"And I think it goes without saying, let him rest. He needs to sleep as much as he can to get rid of this fever before it gets dangerous, if he can't rest you'll have to abide by normal visiting hours."

"I won't keep him up," Tim promised," Thank you."

"For what?" The doctor looked surprised.

"You saved his life."

"No son, you did that," he smiled," all I did was patch him up," the doctor left.

Tim looked down at his partner, Raylan was calm but still sweating. Fever burning through his body, his fingers searched the blankets until they found Tim's. He smiled and put his hand in Raylan's," I've never been so happy to see you."

"T-Tim," his eyes opened.

"I'm here," Tim pulled a chair close to the bed using the boot on his foot and sat down. He lowered the bed so Raylan could see him better.

"S-sorry," Raylan winced and squeezed his hand.

"Sorry?" Tim looked confused," What the hell?"

"D-drugged," his breathing was labored.

"I know," Tim reassured him," They've got you on some pretty strong drugs here."

"Nnnno," he shook his head," they—drugged—me—" he reached his hand up to rub his face, Tim stopped him.

"Ray, don't do that," he put his hand in his lap," Listen to me," he waited until Raylan turned to look at him," The doctor has me in here to keep you calm, if your fever gets too high or you start getting in trouble they'll make me leave and sedate you into a coma until your body heals," Raylan blinked," You're pretty fucked up right now, I don't care what happened to you right now. We can talk about it later, right now I want you to relax and sleep this off."

"Sshhhiiit," he slurred," how—bad—am—I?"

"You got shot in the chest, the bullet didn't go all the way through and you got an infection."

"Damn," Raylan sighed," Y'okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," he stretched his neck, remembering that his shoulder was still throbbing.

"L-liar," Raylan reached his hand up and pointed to Tim's shoulder," You're bleeding."

"Not lying, I'm okay. I got hit on my way to get you," he moved his t-shirt to show Raylan," doctor said it would bleed a little but I'm okay."

"Thought they were gonna kill me," Raylan started regaining his voice.

"I know," Tim folded his arm and lay his head on a pillow next to Raylan," but you're safe here, there's a federal agent outside your room with a really big gun; and just to let you know I don't care how bad my shoulder and foot hurts, I'll kill anyone who comes in here to hurt you."

"Ankle?"

"It's broken," Tim regretted telling him," doctor reset the bones and put me in a walking cast."

"Shit," Raylan readjusted the oxygen cannula in his nose," can't remember the last time I hurt like this," he squirmed.

"You should go to sleep," Tim reached for the button to the Morphine pump.

"Just got here," the corner of his mouth turned up into a smile," I missed ya, darlin'."

"Shut up," Tim rolled his eyes," I missed you too."

"You wanna tuck me in and sing some Dolly Parton?"

Tim laughed,' There he is,' he pressed the button and watched Raylan sink into the pillows," I'll even squeeze my nuts and go soprano for you later, but right now you should sleep."

"Y'got it," Raylan snickered and let himself drift to sleep.

Art texted Tim's phone,' How's he doing? Are we allowed to come visit?' Tim typed back,' He's hurting a lot, sleeping now. You can come up if you want, doctor said as long as we don't stress him out he can have visitors.' Art texted back,' Be there in a few,' Tim put his cell phone in the pocket of his sweatpants and lay his head on the pillow next to Raylan's leg, it put his shoulder at an odd angle but if Raylan woke up and needed him he was within reach. He closed his eyes and took advantage of the quiet, soon he was fast asleep.

Rachel and Art slid the door open quietly and stepped inside, pulling the curtains closed behind them. The doctor had told them since they were police they could stay as long as they didn't upset Raylan or keep him up. Same rules Tim had been given. Art put his arm around Rachel's shoulders," They both need some sleep."

"I agree."

"So how long have you been in love with Tim?"

"What?" She jumped, the question surprising her.

"Don't think I don't see it," Art squeezed her shoulder," just like the two of them think I don't see what they're going through either. I'm old, Rachel, not dead."

"I don't know," she admitted," he's always been so distant and unavailable and I just want to hug him and fix it."

"You think they're gay?" Art gestured to the bed where Tim's head lay practically in Raylan's lap.

"I asked him directly actually," she blushed," he says no."

"Considering Raylan chases everything with blonde hair and a skirt that swishes its way past him I doubt he's gay," Art sighed," but you never know. I think for now, we should just let them be."

"Tim's got PTSD," Rachel blurted.

"Yeah, I read that in his file when I—"

" He had a flashback or a nightmare the other night," she rubbed her wrist absent-mindedly," I didn't know what was wrong with him, I reached out and he jumped on me."

"Are you okay?" Art looked her over.

"Yeah, I'm fine. He needs some time off after this whole thing with Raylan," she shook her head," I didn't tell you that to get him in trouble or—I just know Raylan calms the storms in his head. They spend a lot of time together because Tim has been having problems."

"So when Raylan comes in and says he got into a bar fight…"

"Yeah, Tim has outright attacked him a few times."

"Yeah they both need some time off after this, if they don't decide to retire completely."


	9. Recovery

Romance wasn't my original idea but it's happening...Tim/Raylan pairing. Nothing racy yet.

* * *

CH 9 Recovery

—Gravel crunched beneath his shoes as he followed his father, Arlo had some deal he was making and he took Raylan along for the ride. It was better than Arlo staying at home and beating on his mom, so he agreed to go. Arlo stopped at the store on the corner and came back with a piece of candy, Reeses cup Raylan's favorite, and a brown paper bag. Raylan knew his dad only bought him candy when he picked up a bottle of whiskey. He unwrapped the candy and sat back in his seat.

"Now you wait here," his dad put the bottle, still covered with the paper bag, on the seat," and don't you spill my drink."

"Yes sir," Raylan remembered the way the seats smelled, the whiskey mixing with the air and the sweet taste of the chocolate. He waited for what seemed like ages, then he heard yelling. He unbuckled his seatbelt and leaned forward to see what was happening. A large black man was on top of his father, hitting him. The headlights seemed to spotlight the scene and he dropped his Reeses, bolting out the door and running, stumbling over the uneven ground, to get to Arlo," Daddy!" Raylan screamed, his throat burning from the force.

The man stopped hitting his father and turned to look at him, Raylan felt a cold chill sweep over his body," Stop it," his voice sounded squeaky even to him.

"What'd y'say, boi?" The man's drawl was thicker than the people he lived around.

"Don't hurt my daddy," Raylan realized he was crying.

"Git outta here," the man stood up, Arlo's blood on his hands," Don'ch'y'all come back 'ere neither!" He stomped back to his truck.

Raylan ran to his dad," Dad?" He helped him stand and got him back into the car.

"Git me home, y'little sheeiit," Arlo grabbed his bottle of whiskey and took a long drink. Raylan crawled into the driver's seat," and stop your cryin' y'pussy, b'fore I give y'reason."—

Tim woke up to Raylan's mumbling, he rubbed his eyes and sat up. Raylan's eyes twitched and he shook his head trying to get rid of the memory. Tim immediately knew what was happening," Ray, wake up."

"Dad…"

"Raylan, it's a dream," Tim patted his face to try and rouse him. Eyes clenched shut, hands clawing at the sheets, heart rate increasing," Ray!"

"Stop…hitting…"

"Wake up!" Tim called and slapped him a little harder than he meant to, Raylan's eyes flew open. He sat up and his eyes darted around the room, Tim caught him as his body registered the sudden movement. Raylan bit his lip so hard to keep from screaming he tasted blood, he fought against whoever was holding him," It's me," Tim's shoulder ached as he struggled to keep Raylan still.

"Tim?" Raylan choked on his name, his body shaking from the pain.

"Yeah, it's me," Tim didn't move," what do you see, hear, smell?"

"Tim…" he protested, agony in his voice.

Tim pressed the button and delivered a dose of Morphine through Raylan's IV," Raylan you did this for me when my PTSD got bad, now answer me dammit."

"Your voice—cologne—hurts…" he was trembling even after the Morphine started working, he hated this.

"Good," Tim helped him lay back onto the pillows," you okay?"

"No," the look in his eyes scared Tim," this isn't me…"

"You're hurt," Tim tried to be reassuring, but he was right, this was totally unlike the Raylan he'd been friends with for so long," you're on pain medications and…"

"I'm an addict."

"What?"

"He's right in a way," Art sat up from the couch where he'd been laying. Raylan's face turned red and he looked away," we got his tox screen back," Raylan didn't want anyone seeing him like this, not even Tim but he desperately did not want to be alone. He wanted to go back to Tim's house or his apartment and fall asleep with the comfort of someone touching him, someone he trusted. He was hoping Art wasn't about to say what he thought he was about to say," Raylan tested positive for drugs, before the medics got the IV in him they took some blood and the lab ran it when he got here," he turned to Raylan," your levels were dangerously high, you'd overdosed and almost died when they got you into surgery."

"Christ!" Tim was shocked.

Raylan tried to scoot away from Tim, wishing Art and Rachel,' Oh God Rachel's here too,' would leave so he could just curl up against Tim's chest and forget anything else existed for a few hours. His side burned as he tried to move and he doubled over, grabbing at the wound. Tim grabbed his wrist and kept him from tearing at the bandages," Ray, it's not like you were shooting up for fun," his head spun, the pain was blinding. He wanted to get out of there, run and not look back, even if it meant quitting his job.

"What's happening?" A doctor rushed in," do you want him to code?" He grabbed the button and pushed for more Morphine. Raylan slumped over against Tim," What happened?" The doctor looked annoyed.

"He has PTSD," Tim answered," he was a Marine, he had a flashback."

"Mr. Givens?" The doctor pulled out a pen light and shined it in his eyes, Raylan squinted and turned away.

"He'll be all right," Tim said protectively, but he could feel Raylan's body was too hot. He was still sweating, hair damp and slicked back and he really needed a shave.

"I think he needs a few hours visitor-free," the doctor was trying to be firm.

"Nnnooo," Raylan picked his head up a little," T-Tim shtaysshhh," he slurred," Please."

"I can get him back to sleep," Tim slid beside him. Raylan had ceased to care who was around or who was watching, he didn't want to be alone. He curled into Tim and buried his face in his shoulder.

"I didn't realize the two of you were…" the doctor stammered," I need to check his temperature before he passes out."

"Ray," Tim nudged him gently with his chin. The doctor put the thermometer under his tongue and waited, Raylan's eyes were closed and he was almost asleep again.

"It's too high," the doctor shook his head," it needs to come down or we're going to have problems."

"How bad is it?" Tim asked.

"One'o'three point three," Tim drew in a hissed breath," I can't let it get to one'o'six, he's already having issues telling the difference between what's real and what's not."

"What would help?" Art rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward.

"He's going through withdrawals now that the heroin is leaving his system, he has an infection that we're afraid is spreading and judging by the large gash on his head I'd say he has a head injury, probably a concussion."

"So what can we do?"

"We could try him on some Suboxone," the doctor pushed his glasses up on his nose," maybe it would make the withdrawals easier."

"Nnnnnoo," Raylan shook his head.

"Ray, you're too sick for this right now," Tim tried to reason with him.

" M'a Marshal—n'drugs," the Morphine had almost completely taken over, still he writhed and the fever persisted.

"Mr. Givens we're running out of options, we can try the Suboxone and see if that breaks the fever and ease you off of the drugs or we can put you in a medically-induced coma until your body detoxes," the doctor was trying to help.

He groaned and tilted his head up to look up at Tim, eyes questioning what to do," Can you give us a minute?" Tim looked around.

"I'll be back in a few minutes," the doctor left with Art and Rachel behind him.

"I'll text you," Tim told Art.

"Get better," the words sounded empty to Art even as he said them.

Once they were alone, Tim breathed a sigh of relief and dosed his partner with another round of Morphine. Raylan still shivered," You're gonna be all right," he hugged him.

"No Tim," Raylan's voice broke and Tim saw tears hitting the sheets," I'm not," he turned to look into those cool blue eyes," I'm…terrified."

"I know," Tim cradled him, just like when he'd had flashbacks of Jesse and Qatar. Tim wasn't accustomed to this, usually it was him crying on Raylan's shoulder as he remembered the look on Jesse's face as he bled out in his arms or the beatings his dad had given him as a child. It wasn't supposed to be this way, Raylan was too strong for this.

When Raylan stopped shaking, Tim tried again," You need to take the drugs," he encouraged him," Please, you'd tell me—"

"Okay," it was small and defeated.

"Please…"

"I'm not myself," Raylan ran a hand through his hair," the drugs, Tim, whatever they shot me up with," he looked down at his arms, Tim saw track marks and his heart sank.

"It's okay," Tim picked up the Morphine remote.

"Wait," Raylan put his hand on his side and winced," I need you—to help me," Tim nodded," If these drugs—change me again," he swallowed hard," you have my power of attorney."

"Ray, I don't think…"

"Stop, I might not be lucid for long," he pressed his fingers into his side to get a jolt of pain to keep him grounded," it's in my file, I want you to make my decisions for me."

"Okay, Ray."

"I'm gonna be sick," Tim barely had enough time to grab a basin off of the bedside table before Raylan's stomach turned a flip and he threw up.

"You'll get back to your old self soon."

"Hope so," Raylan lay back," because if we keep ending up like this," he gestured to their bodies curled up into each other," people are gonna think we're gay."

"Gotta admit," Tim snorted," it does look kinda gay."

"They'll think you're the gay one," Raylan snickered," You're a lot prettier than I am."

"Fuck off," Tim laughed,' That's more like it.'

Raylan laughed with him and instantly regretted it, he growled to keep from screaming and clutched at his side. Tim rested his cheek on top of Raylan's head, Raylan's breathing slowed and Tim was sure he was asleep. He texted Art,' Something's really wrong with him, what all came back on that tox screen?' Art texted back,' Heroin, Fentanyl and Oxy,' Tim felt his heart skip a beat, those drugs combined should have killed him. He responded,' He's asleep again, I can't move because if I do I'm afraid I'll wake him up. You can come back if you want,' he waited a few minutes and was about to give up when Art replied,' Okay, we need to talk.' Tim frowned at his phone, that was never a good thing coming from Art. Usually when Art said 'we need to talk' it was because he was about to chew on your ass.

While he waited for Art to come back he chewed on his lip,' I can't believe you're not dead,' he watched Raylan's chest rise and fall,' you're so different now though,' he leaned back and stretched his neck to his right side, his shoulder was throbbing again,' Hell maybe I should ask for something to help dull my own pain,' his ankle wasn't too bad now but still barked at him when he moved his toes.

The door slid open and Art stepped inside, alone this time. He closed the door and pulled the curtain," Tim," he said quietly.

"Boss," the exchange was familiar and comforting.

"I'm not sure Raylan knows exactly how close he came to dying."

"He does," Tim licked his lips," Trust me, he'd never do this in public," he glanced down at a sleeping Raylan who was almost snuggling into him.

"I'm not judging either of you," Art shrugged," I'm giving you both some PTO, you'll need some time to heal that shoulder and ankle and," he paused for a few seconds trying to find the words," Raylan will need some time too."

"He's nine kinds of fucked up," Tim agreed," When I found him, I thought he was dead," he felt his eyes sting," then when he woke up in the hospital after surgery, he's not the Raylan I remember."

"It's the drugs," Art consoled him," he's been given massive amounts of narcotics and God only knows whatever else they had on hand. His personality will come back."

"For the first time since I've known him, he's scared."

"I've never seen this side of him either."

"If he wakes up and I'm not touching him he freaks out," Tim rested his cheek on the top of Raylan's head," I don't know what I'm doing."

"You're giving him what he needs."

"It's usually been the other way around," Tim admitted," after work we usually go to my place and watch westerns and drink. My flashbacks had gotten bad for awhile, Raylan got too drunk to leave one night so he slept on my couch. I had a flashback, he was there when I woke up. I'd busted his lip and was trying to pin him, he was calm and didn't beat my ass."

"So how long have the two of you been seeing each other?"

"It's not like that, boss…"

"Tim, I don't really give a damn if you two are a thing. Because whatever this is, it's good for him. And you."

"I don't know what this is either to be honest," Tim's left arm was going numb, he adjusted to take some pressure off of his bicep and Raylan stirred. Pain evident in his expression, he grabbed a handful of the sheets and grit his teeth. Tim grabbed a damp cloth from the table and wiped his face gently," Just me, Ray," Art watched him relax beneath Tim's touch.

"That's what I mean," he said flatly.

"What?"

"The two of you have figured out a way to take care of each other," he smiled," listen, Raylan's like a son to me. We've had our ups and downs and he makes me so mad I'd like to hang him up like a side of beef and beat him like Rocky Balboa, but in my own way…I love that reckless, stubborn asshole."

"I know," Tim absently stroked his hair," I love him too."

"Was that so hard?" Art smirked.

"I'd rather not think for awhile," Tim sighed," I want him to heal before he starts worrying about anything."

"You know the Miami PD is going to want a statement, and so are the feds and the FBI and the news reporters."

"No."

"Huh?" Tim's response surprised Art.

"He's in intensive care, the only people I'm letting in here are you and Rachel."

"Good, I'll have to act like I'm doing the boss thing and chew your ass about it when they're here though."

"That's fine, I've had drill instructors before. Besides, you're about as scary as a teddy bear."

"I take offense to that," and there it was, the old banter,' Now if only we could get Raylan back to his normal smart assed self.'

At some point Tim dozed off, Art had fallen asleep on the couch and Rachel had taken a chair. Art and Rachel had their guns on them and were using the excuse of being Raylan and Tim's protection so they would be allowed to stay.

Raylan woke up slowly, pain radiating from his chest. He shivered despite the blankets Tim had pulled over them and whimpered, Tim nuzzled him and it was strangely comforting. He opened his eyes and saw Rachel and Art sleeping, he felt dizzy and nauseous. He closed his eyes and swallowed,' Don't let me throw up right now,' his stomach rolled.

Tim noticed Raylan moving against him, he pushed himself up to get a look at his friend's face. He had just enough time to see that Raylan was looking a little green again, he grabbed one of the bags off of the table that the nurse had left sometime last night after he'd gotten sick," Ray?" Only Raylan didn't respond, he grabbed at the bag and heaved. When he was finished he collapsed back onto Tim's chest, breathing hard in short gasps," You're okay," Tim wiped his face,' He's burning up,' Tim pushed the call button.  
A middle-aged nurse came in a few minutes later," Mr. Givens?"

"He's burning up," Tim answered for him, he'd pulled the blankets off of Raylan who was now shaking and barely conscious.

"Let's check you out," she used a type of thermometer Tim hadn't seen before, running the bell over his forehead," we need to cool him off," she frowned.

"How bad is it?" Tim felt a lump in his throat.

"What was it last time they checked?"

"One'o'three?" Tim tried to remember.

"He's at one'o'four point nine now," the nurse pulled his gown away from his chest. Bruises littered his torso but the area around the bullet wound was red and swollen more than last night.

"I can get him cleaned up a bit."

"I'm going to get his doctor," she left.

"T-Tim?" Raylan's voice was strained.

"You're burning up," he moved away from Raylan to fill a basin with cool water, Raylan's hand searched for him," I'm over here," he called softly. His shoulder screaming at him, but he ignored it.

"Hurts," Raylan almost choked on the word, he fumbled with the Morphine pump.

"I know," Tim pushed the button for him," but we have to cool you off," he unsnapped the shoulders of the thin hospital gown and pulled it away.

Raylan shivered and reached for it,"Please," he begged.

"I'm trying to help you," Tim wiped his neck and chest, wiping around the bandages that covered the cuts on his arms and wrists where the cuffs and zip ties had cut into him. He was lucky he could even move his hands and fingers at all Tim realized.

"C-cold," he jumped as Tim wiped down his other side.

"Don't worry, I'm leaving the other side alone," Tim leaned and pulled the blanket away from his legs. The bed was damp, the room smelled like fever and Tim realized he was losing his grip on reality.

The doctor came in," I hear his fever is spiking again," he pulled out his pen light and shined it in each of Raylan's eyes," not reacting the way they need to," he used the bell thermometer on his forehead again, working around the bandage.

Tim knew what would happen next," Has it gone down?"

"He's at one'o'five," the doctor sighed," I'm gonna try some stronger antibiotics, some steroids and…I'm sorry, but we're going to have to sedate him until he stabilizes," he nodded towards the monitors," his blood pressure has dropped and I'm afraid—"

"Whatever will make him get better," Tim got up and gave the doctor some more room.

"I've tried avoiding this," he snapped his fingers near Raylan's ear, testing his reflexes before Tim could stop him. Raylan's right hand went to his side for a gun, he yelled as his hand grazed the bandages. Tim pulled his hand away from his side and spoke softly to him, Raylan trembled and buried his face into Tim's shirt.

"It's okay, you're safe," Tim ran his fingers through his hair," it's just me and the doctor."

"I don't know if he can hear you," a nurse came in," get some Stadol and a cart."

"He was lucid for a few minutes yesterday," Tim didn't notice Art and Rachel waking up and stretching," He told me if he got bad to do what I thought was best."

"That's the truth," Art confirmed," Tim has Raylan's power of attorney."

"Okay, Tim, can I call you Tim?" The doctor asked, Tim nodded," I think he'd be most comfortable if he didn't have to be conscious for this and his body could heal. I can put him in a medically-induced coma, or I can give him some very strong sedatives and he'll be in and out and we can see how he does."

"What do you think is better?" Tim asked.

"I'd like to try and keep him conscious as he can tolerate it," Tim nodded," I'm also going to put him on a round of steroids, some more fluids, and some Stadol for the withdrawals. Now the tricky part is getting some nutrients in him, I need him to eat something. When he got here we put in a nasogastric tube and tried to get something in him to help him get stronger, I didn't want to leave that in there in case he woke up; but if we can't get him eating that's an option."

"I'll see if I can get him to eat," Tim limped to the bathroom," That sounds like a plan, doc. I'll be right back."

Raylan stiffened, the nurse had come back in and was wiping him down so she could change the sheets. Art and Rachel were helping, Tim could tell he was trying to resist, upset and scared with no idea where he was or who was touching him. A feeling Tim recognized all too well, when they'd gotten clean linens on the bed Tim returned to his spot," Raylan," he touched his cheek gently before sitting next to him.

Raylan's skin broke out into goosebumps, he had no idea who had been moving him,' Where's Tim?' He felt himself being moved, pain exploding in his chest. He winced and opened his mouth but no sound came out, then a hand on his cheek,' Tim,' he recognized his deodorant and cologne and leaned into the touch,' I'm still in here,' he tried to speak but no words would come. The lack of response from his body was scary, he shook his head to try and clear the fog. Tim was talking to him, the mattress had the weight of his body on it. He'd heard that when your other senses were compromised the ones you still had left tried to make up for it. It was like his nose was hyper sensitive, the cologne's scent got stronger and he clumsily tried to move towards it.

"Stop, Ray," Tim slid an arm behind his shoulders, Raylan tried to roll into him," Ray, we need to change your bandages, lay still," he leaned him up and got behind him.

"Good, his blood pressure is starting to get back to normal," the doctor, who had told Tim his name at least five times already but Tim couldn't remember it to save his life, started helping the nurse peel the dressing away from his side," Just keep him still, I don't know how sedated he is."

"He won't give you any problems," Tim said close to Raylan's ear," They're just trying to help you, Ray," Raylan groaned and leaned his head back onto Tim's shoulder, hoping Tim would realize he was trying to respond to them.

Tim was glad there was an oxygen mask over Raylan's face when they started taking out the packing, the wound's infection had a smell to it now. The nurse irrigated it and started repacking it with fresh gauze strips, Raylan squirmed. Tim put his arms around him and talked softly in his ear, he trembled and whined on occasion but didn't fight.

Once finished, the nurse hung a bag of antibiotics," This should make the withdrawals easier," she connected a syringe to his IV port.

"Thank you," Tim smiled at her warmly.

"Nnnnn," Raylan felt the pull of the drugs as they hit his system, remembering the men in masks jerking his arm away from him and the bite of the needle. Whatever they'd given him burned similarly to this, he pulled away but Tim was ready.

"Stay with me," Tim had a tight grip on his bicep, the sound of his voice comforting but the burn of the drugs terrifying. Tim saw him struggle to listen to him and keep calm," you're doing good, this might hurt but it'll stop in a minute," Raylan nodded and leaned back into him.

"He's not allowed to leave," the doctor pointed at Tim," under any circumstances no one is allowed to try and make him leave. I'd like to have a look at your shoulder though."

"Okay," Tim adjusted, the nurse helped him out of his t-shirt. He saw Raylan had been right, there was a small red stain on the shoulder where his bandages were.

"You really need some antibiotics and some fluids too," the nurse peeled the tape up, and they wiped the area with what looked like baby wipes to Tim but he was sure they had some sort of antiseptic on them. Tim set his jaw as they got closer to the wound, he couldn't move and chance disturbing Raylan who was finally still but damn this hurt," Will you let us give you something for the pain?"

"Yes," Art spoke up," and whatever antibiotics you think he needs," he looked at Tim, challenging him, daring him to protest," you give him whatever he needs to stay strong enough to be here for Raylan. If he gives you any problems you call me."

The doctor laughed," Okay, boss," he wrote on a small notepad," Nurse, start a central line on him and give him some fluids and, since his partner's asleep, a cocktail to help him get some rest."

"Yes sir," she got a packet from the med cart," Make a fist for me."

Tim barely felt her stick him,' She's good,' he relaxed his hand feeling the coolness of fluids rushing through his veins, followed by warm sedatives.

"When you two wake up you need to eat something," she advised.

"Yes ma'am," Tim felt himself getting sleepy, his shoulder and foot had stopped hurting for the first time since all this had started.

"I'll go get you something to eat, c'mon Rachel," Art put his jacket on and motioned.

"Get some rest," Rachel smiled as they left.

"We must look a sight," Tim snorted when they were alone again, Raylan smiled in his sleep and Tim closed his eyes.

Raylan slipped in and out of consciousness, the pain numbed in his body and the comfort of Tim cradling him. He opened his eyes slowly, he winced when he saw the walking cast on Tim's foot,' Now why'd you go and get yourself all banged up, darlin',' he thought dejectedly. He flexed his fingers, testing them as he remembered the bite of the handcuffs and the zip ties. Cuts and track marks covered his forearms, as much of them as he could see anyway. He was still shaking, whatever they'd given him was surging through his body and made him itch. He resisted the urge to scratch his arms when the flashback hit.

—It had happened so fast his brain didn't register what had happened, gunfire echoed through the woods. He'd gone to the Bennett house to try and stop Loretta from spending the rest of her life in prison for murder and now he was laying on the ground next to his car. He was sure he'd hit at least two of the guys, a wave of nausea washed over him as he stared down the barrel of Doyle's gun. His ears rang from the noise.

Doyle waited to speak until he was sure Raylan could hear him," This bullet's been coming for twenty years."

'This is it,' Raylan put his arm in front of his face,' I wish I'd have told him how much…' a hole in the middle of Doyle's forehead interrupted his thoughts. He turned and saw Tim, hat on backwards, running down the hill with his rifle.—

When the bullet hit him in his flashback, his body felt it. He jerked, doubled over and yelled. Tim was there, Raylan could tell he'd startled him by the way he jumped," Ray?"

"M'kay," he was breathing hard, bits of the flashback still fragmented in his mind.

"Flashback?" Tim asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah."

"You know the drill."

"I'm in a hospital, you're wearing Axe," he wrinkled his nose, Tim usually didn't wear cheap stuff but under the circumstances he let it pass," my side," he put some pressure on the wound, he wasn't sure it did any good but it made him feel a little better to be able to control the pain," I'm itching."

"Part of the withdrawals," Tim put his hand over Raylan's when he noticed him trying to scratch his arm," I'll have the nurse get you some Benadryl."

"What happened to you?" He nodded at the IV in Tim's arm.

"Fluids, pain meds," Tim shrugged," My shoulder was hurting."

"Tim, I'll be okay," Raylan was having one of his moments of lucidity.

"Ray, this is the second time in almost two days you've made sense. You are in no way, okay," just like Raylan to be worried about everyone except himself.

"You didn't call—"

"No," Tim answered before he even finished the question," I did not call Winona."

"Thank you," he breathed a sigh of relief," it's bad enough Art and Rachel are here, but—"

Tim waited for him to finish his sentence, then," but what?"

"I'm glad you're here."

"Yeah, me too," Tim smiled his odd little half smile, the real smile he rarely showed to anyone.

"I prayed you'd find me," Raylan drawled," I was sure they were gonna kill me. Then I heard them talking."

"Raylan," Tim warned," you don't have to talk about this, doctor said to keep you calm."

"I need to," he panted," or the memories will keep playing. They told me they were going to sell me, all while shooting me full of heroin apparently. They took pictures," Tim set his jaw and Raylan could tell how upset he was," had some guy come and look at me once I think," he shuddered.

"Ray, please," Tim pulled him into his chest.

"It scared me," Raylan wrapped his arm around Tim, realizing now Tim wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Scared me too."

"I don't know if I can do this anymore," Raylan pulled away, he groaned as he sat up.

"What d'ya mean?" A lump caught in Tim's throat.

"I don't know if I can do this job anymore."

Tim sighed in relief," Ray let's just get you through this right now."

"Where are we?" Raylan looked around.

"Hospital in Miami, some Franciscan-sounding place."

"I'm in fucking Miami?!" A chill ran down his spine and he felt sick.

"Yeah that's where we found you."

"Where's Boyd?"

"In Kentucky where he belongs," Tim didn't add the 'or in a fucking hospital bed or a body bag after what he got you into,' but he was thinking it.

"I've gotta get outta here," Raylan's mind raced.

"You can't make a trip like that right now, you're safe here," Tim reassured him.

"No," Raylan was moving, trying to get up," Tommy…Bucks…"

"Ray—" Tim put his arm under Raylan's and pulled him back onto the bed," You almost died, you're on a shitload of meds and the only time you're coherent is when the doctors give you Suboxone."

"Tommy will send a zip," Raylan knew he couldn't fight Tim in his injured state.

"A zip?"

"It's what the Italians call hitmen. Tommy was a zip once. He worked his way up, he's killed God only knows how many people. Tim, we have to leave Miami, they'll find us," he tried to get up again.

"Raylan Givens!" Tim sat up and turned to face him," I don't know what's going on in your head right now, but you're fucked up. You're not even talking like yourself right now."

"I'm terrified," Raylan choked on the words and hung his head.

Tim's heart broke," Ray," he picked his chin up and looked deep into hazel eyes," I won't let anyone hurt you. I promise."

"Tim—"

"Raylan you won't make it back to Kentucky right now," he let it sink in," you spiked a fever of one'o'five last night. You were delirious half the night, waking up talking nonsense, flashbacks from your time in the core, you were clinging to me crying like I did to you when we first met."

Raylan blinked," I don't know how to stop it."

"The same way you told me to stop it," Tim put his hand on his shoulder," you take it one day at a time. I haven't left you, not even once, since you got out of surgery. I only get out of this bed to get to the bathroom so I can shower and change my clothes."

"I know," Raylan pulled the oxygen mask away from his face and let it hang around his neck," I'm sorry."

"Sorry?"

"I shouldn't be snapping at you, you took a bullet to get me outta there."

"And I'd do it again," Tim said matter-of-factly, Raylan looked up at him. Tim's heart pounded,' Fuck it,' he leaned in, taking the cowboy's face in his hands and pressed his lips onto Raylan's. A small surprised yip and Tim started to pull away, feeling stupid. Then he noticed, Raylan's arm around his waist. Weakly pulling Tim closer, his lips responding. The taste of hospital toothpaste and mouthwash from that morning and the roughness of the beard he was now sporting drove Tim crazy. Tim was glad he'd brushed Raylan's teeth while he was asleep that morning, and remembered to brush his own. He ran his fingers through Raylan's hair, not wanting to stop. Finally they parted, Tim's nose nuzzling Raylan's cheek.

"Fuck," Raylan whispered," What now?" 


	10. That Damned Hat

CH 10 That Damn Hat

"What do you mean?" Tim put his cheek against Raylan's,' Still burning up with a fever.'

"I fuck up literally every relationship I'm in, I don't want to lose you."

"I'm not exactly boyfriend material myself," Tim snorted.

"What is this exactly?"

"I don't know, I don't care," Tim lay back on the sheets, pulling Raylan down with him," All I know is when you were gone I went crazy."

"Really…?" His voice laced with a hint of sarcasm.

"Really Ray, Art stayed at my house, I couldn't sleep without you there. I went to go shower and saw your shirt hanging on the back of my bathroom door, I broke down. I put it on and slept in it, just to be close to you. I have your hat by the way."

"It survived?" He giggled," Did you try it on?"

"I did not," Tim smirked, enjoying this glimpse of the old Raylan.

"Awe, c'mon you're lying," the slur was still there, drugs keeping him coherent," Even Rachel tried it on."

"She told me," Tim grinned," thought you were sleepin'."

"Wish I coulda seen the look on her face," his breath hitched and he shut his eyes, trying to ride out the pain.

"This is the Raylan I know—" Tim pushed the button, watching Raylan's breathing regulate," Y'okay?"

"Yeah, just hurts," his voice took a gravelly tone," I don't know how much longer I'll be awake."

"I'm here to stay," Tim ran his fingers down Raylan's back.

"Feels good,' Raylan arched into him.

"Good, relax. You need to eat something though."

"I am hungry," Raylan rolled his neck as Tim massaged it.

"I know just the thing," Tim kissed the nape of his neck, Raylan shivered but this time with pleasure.

"You keep *that* up and…"

"And what?" Tim's breath was hot on his ear, Raylan grabbed his hand and put it in his lap.

"And my side won't be the only thing swollen."

"Perv," Tim nipped his shoulder.

"Tease," Raylan snapped back.

"I missed you," Raylan could feel his lips curl into his little half smile.

"But please, Tim," he tilted his head back," let's get out of here. It's not safe."

"When you've healed enough to leave," Tim nestled his face into the hollow of Raylan's neck," I'll take you anywhere you wanna go."

"I might not remember this," his words getting slow and his eyes getting harder to keep open.

"That's all right."

"Not fair—to you," Tim knew Raylan was fading.

"Don't you worry about me, darlin'," he drawled, imitating the cowboy in his arms.

"That's all I do," Raylan's eyes were closing.

"I won't make it awkward, even if you don't remember our kiss," Tim played with the small patch of hair on Raylan's chest," I'm just glad it happened."

"Me too," Raylan purred beneath his fingers," Y'don't know how long I've wanted to do that."

Raylan napped, Tim texted Art,' Could you do me a favor?' The response,' What do you need?'

'There's a little Mexican place called 'La Morinita' on the beach not far from here. Get some black bean soup and taquitos for us please and mangos if they have them. Raylan's hungry.'

'Okay.'

'Thank you,' Tim shifted Raylan onto the sheets, his eyes moved restlessly as Tim got up," Just going to the bathroom," Raylan smiled and nodded, hugging the pillow that smelled like Tim close to him and drifting back to sleep. Tim showered, which was difficult considering he had to tie a plastic bag around the boot on his foot since he couldn't put weight on it without that bulky thing yet. He pulled his razor out of his duffel bag and shaved, remembering the way Raylan's beard had felt against his face. He always packed a spare, he filled a basin with hot water and grabbed a cloth and some shaving cream.

"Ray-Ray," he sat on the edge of the bed, Raylan's eyes opened into slits and he got a satisfying moan of approval as Tim put cream on his face," Figured this would help the itching."

Art and Rachel stood outside the door, watching Tim shave Raylan. Something was different, Raylan seemed to be feeling a little better though," Tim looks better," Rachel noted.

"Yeah," Art agreed," y'know we need to get back to Kentucky soon."

"I know," she sighed," it's just hard to leave them."

"I don't want to either," Art leaned against the wall," but the manpower it's taking to run things while we're all four gone is causing trouble."

Tim was finishing, wiping Raylan's face with a hot towel. Art and Rachel peeking awkwardly to see when they should come in with the food, then Tim planted a kiss on Raylan's lips. Raylan reached up and responded, smiling stupidly when they broke.

"I need to get back to work anyway," Rachel shifted her weight from foot to foot.

"I understand," Art turned to her," y'know it's no offense to you they're gay."

"I don't think their sex life is any of our business," Rachel shook her head," At least they're happy."

"I've never seen Raylan smile like that. Shall we?"

"Yeah, one last lunch with the guys and we can catch the Red Eye flight outta here."

The door slid open, Raylan went for his gun and growled at the sudden jolt of pain," Shit," he cursed.

"Just us," Art apologized.

"It's okay,' Tim put his razor and shaving cream back in his bag in the bathroom and came back, much to Raylan's dismay, with his Army Ranger shirt on.

"You look more like yourself," Art smiled.

"You look like shit," Raylan smirked.

"Good to see you too, asshole," Art noticed he wasn't sweating as badly, but seeing him bare-chested he noticed how much weight he had lost. Raylan's ribs were showing, the stomach that once had two rows of abs and a slight V was flat.

"Tim asked me to pick up some food," he put a box of takeout on the table.

"Is that?" Raylan sniffed and looked at Tim," You remembered?"

"Yup," Tim grinned.

"I'm glad to see you're feeling better too," Rachel said shyly," can we take a walk?"

Tim looked uneasily at Raylan," You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah," Raylan's smile was drunk," stretch your legs."

"I'll keep him company," Art opened his own box and started eating," Doctor's on his way down the hall."

"I don't wanna go far," Tim admitted when they stepped out of the room," I haven't been out of his sight and…"

"This'll only take a minute," Rachel took a deep breath," I'm in love with you," Tim caught himself on the wall," before you say anything, I know you and Raylan are dating now. I've known about the two of you for awhile."

"How? I didn't even know about us," he laughed," I'm sorry, Rachel."

"I'm not angry, I'm not even really hurt. It's good to finally see you happy," she threw her arms around his neck," Can we be friends? Like the kind of friends who hang out and watch shitty movies with Raylan and get drunk?"

"Sure thing," Tim hugged her back with his good arm.

"Raylan," Art said between bites of food.

"Art—I don't—" he was painfully aware of Tim's absence.

"You're getting a few months of PTO," Art said when the silence hung in the air," so is Tim."

"I don't know—"

"Save it," Art took a sip of his soda," I know you two are seeing each other."

Tim limped back in, followed by Raylan's doctor," Mr. Givens," he started, scanning over his clipboard," you seem to be doing better, fever is coming down I see. Don't let that fool you, there's still a very nasty infection in the wound in your side. I see a scar that matches it on your other side as well, so I know this isn't your first time being shot. We're going to keep you here and monitor your condition for a few more days, once the infection is under control we can talk about you going home and you can finish your treatment there if needed."

"I'd like," Raylan cleared his throat," to get out of here asap."

"Mr. Givens, trust me I understand but if you leave now you could—"

"If I stay, that zip is gonna come for me."

"Ray, we have an entire team to keep you safe," Tim sat beside him and put his hand on top of Raylan's thigh.

"The only way you're leaving here without signing an AMA form is under the care of Mr. Gutterson and with the promise to get to an emergency room when you get back to Kentucky to check on your condition," Raylan was shaking his head, sitting still was not his style," Mr. Givens, you almost died on my table. When you came in your lips were blue and you were coding, I had to call a trauma team to keep you alive long enough to dig the bullet out of you. Your pressure bottomed and we gave you three doses of adrenaline inducing drugs to keep you stable long enough to set up a blood transfusion. Even then, your fever spiked. You almost started seizing and we had to switch to sedating you."

Tim was pale, he knew Raylan needed to hear this but he felt like he couldn't breathe,' I came so close to losing you,' he squeezed Raylan's leg.

"After that we got the labs back, you tested positive for several illegal substances you'd been drugged with. Shortly after we moved you to recovery and you were waking up, you started trying to fight the nurses. We were afraid to give you more sedatives, we restrained you until you calmed down so you wouldn't hurt yourself, or anyone else for that matter. You're quite strong and your reflexes are lightning fast."

"Still wanna leave."

"So we bring you to intensive care, your partner there," he pointed to Tim," stayed by you the entire time. He wouldn't leave you even for a second, you were delirious, clinging to him when we changed your bandages until we started the Suboxone."  
Raylan froze," The what?"

"Your body is addicted to the drugs in your tox screen."

"I told you about that," Tim said quietly.

"So the only reason…" Raylan stiffened, Tim felt the tension.

"The only reason you're feeling better is because of the Suboxone," the doctor confirmed," You'll need daily doses until we can wean you off of it," Raylan was shaking his head," Mr. Givens it's the only way I can feel okay about letting you go home. If you don't take the Suboxone your withdrawals, coupled with the infection and trauma you've suffered, could kill you. I've seen it happen before, withdrawals are painful even with the Suboxone."

"Fuck," he rubbed his hands together," if I stay here I'm dead, the zip will come for me. If I leave here I have to check in and get drugs…"

"You need the Suboxone no matter where you are."

"You told me you'd take them."

Raylan vaguely remembered this conversation," I don't want to have to go to a clinic with a bunch of junkies."

"I can release you with the medication in a prescription as long as Mr. Gutterson is supervising you, I can see where a man of your position wouldn't want the people you've put away before seeing you."

"Fine," Raylan could see he wasn't winning this one," but I want outta here, I wanna go home," his accent thickened when he thought of Kentucky, Tim's house, safety, refuge.

"You need to be able to make the trip," the doctor repeated.

"Please?" Raylan wasn't in the habit of begging.

"One day at a time, Ray," Tim slid an arm around his waist, Raylan turned to look at him. When his gaze met those crystal blue eyes he knew he'd lost, he sighed and nodded.

"The nurses will be by to give you another round of meds and change those bandages in a little while," the doctor nodded," eat as much as you can, get your strength back and I'll think about sending you back to Kentucky soon."

"Raylan, what's a zip?" Rachel asked.

"It's what the Italians call a hitman," Raylan was pale," they call 'em zips because of the way they dress, always in a very expensive tailored suit. Harry Arno had one after him, first time I ever went to Italy."

"You've been to Italy?" Rachel asked excitedly.

"Wasn't for fun," Tim gestured and Raylan took a bite of his food," Harry was skimmin' a little too much off a bookie here in Miami, guy named Jimmy Capp. He found out about it and got pissed, so instead of facin' his boss Harry took enough money to run. Was goin' to Italy with a stripper he was seeing named Joyce, only Jimmy sent a zip after him first to feel him out and see if he was gonna run. Guy showed up at Harry's apartment, Harry told me the room got colder when he came in. Harry went to get dinner and another zip came for him in the parkin' lot, Harry shot and killed him then ran. I found him in Italy."

"You've never told me this story," Art sounded surprised," and I've read your file."

"This ain't in it," he swallowed," I went to Italy on my vacation, freelanced the job. Got paid a coupla' grand by Harry's ex-wife, I'd just found out Winona was fuckin' our realtor. Is it real-tor or real-ter?" He shook his head and took a drink," Doesn't matter, anyway, he went to Italy and I followed him."

"He'd given you the slip twice, how'd you know where to find him?" Art asked.

"Because Harry made the mistake of gettin' drunk with me one night, he told me a story about when he was in the military. He'd gone to a little town in Italy, Jenova I think," he took another bite and rubbed his temple trying to remember. Tim was just glad to see him eating," Said he'd killed a man there, so I had an idea he'd go there since it was familiar to him. I was right. Joyce followed him a few days later, right about the time I got there. I know enough Italian to get by and a lot of the locals speak English because it's a tourist town, so I was rushed to find them before the zip did. I was eating lunch at a cafe' with Joyce when I met Tommy Bucks for the first time. Man had a presence about him," Raylan shuddered, remembering the empty look in the man's eyes," like he was hollow, dead inside. I knew he was the zip right away, scared me a little at first because I wasn't carrying my Beretta. I left that at the office, it was my service weapon at the time before I swapped to Sig Sauers, I had a three-eighty and a nine on me but this guy was fuckin' huge and I didn't know if a nine would put him down."

"First time someone intimidated you?" Art folded his arms.

"First time I was carryin' somethin' smaller than a forty cal. and also the first time I thought I needed the biggest bullets I could get my hands on," he continued," so usually the guys we chase try to avoid being seen by us. They wanna hit you when you're not lookin' so they don't chance gettin' seen or gettin' hit back," he took another bite and chewed for a few seconds," Tommy sat down across from me and ordered food. He knew I knew he was the zip, he flat out told me he was the zip just in case I was havin' doubts. Told me he was gonna kill me if I didn't back off, he knew I was there for Harry and said if I got in his way he'd whack me too. Sounded like one of the hitmen off of The Sopranos, for a second I was off my game. I wanted to go for my gun, shoot the fucker right there. Pissed me off that I couldn't justify it other than he was just plain scary. The man was a stone cold killer and I knew it, he'd probably killed over twenty people and just didn't give a shit."

"So did you get Harry out of there?"

"Yeah but Tommy got away, he tried to kill me a few times; but I always knew he was coming. He made sure I saw him, did everythin' he could to scare the shit outta me. Trying to get me to pull first, he'd show me he had a piece on him. He carried a Beretta just like mine, I knew exactly what kinda damage that gun did. He wanted to scare me and it worked, I got Harry and Joyce and hauled ass back to Miami. He followed me, I felt a little better knowing I had the Marshals here on my side to help watch my back; but I also felt bad because it would put my partner in danger. I ended up requesting to ride alone, that way if Tommy came for me at least no one else had to die."

"Jesus," Tim had heard the main parts of that story, but not the details.

"So you can imagine when I saw him in Miami I wasn't surprised, once a zip has a target that's it. One of you's gonna die. He started with the drug cartel, knowing I'd come after him that way if I caught wind of it. It was unsettling that he knew me so well, although he expected me to bring backup. I could tell when I went to question him about the cartel alone he was surprised, put his hand on his gun and asked me why he shouldn't kill me where I stood."

"Is that when you told him he had forty-eight hours to get out of town or you'd shoot him on sight?" Art asked," I'm asking as your friend not your boss," he took his badge off and set it on the table next to his food.

"No one's ever gotten the details 'bout this," Raylan finished his food," I could go to prison for some of the stuff I did here."

"It won't leave this room," Art promised," but if this guy has sent people after you from beyond the grave we need to know what went down."

"I don't like talkin' about this shit," the lump in his throat felt like it was going to choke him.

"No cops in here right now," Tim leaned back," Rachel? Did you wanna leave before…?"

"Nope," she took her badge off and put it next Art's on the table.

"All right then, so I went to question Tommy half-expecting him to kill me. I was tired, I just wanted it to end. Maybe I was a bit suicidal since Winona was still there and I had practically walked in on her fuckin' Gary. The affair had fucked up my head and I'd been drinkin' every night, Winona thought there was something goin' on at work. She didn't act like she cared much sometimes, but then she'd get a wild streak and wouldn't leave me th'hell alone about work," he pushed his hair out of his eyes, nervously," so I went off half-cocked to see Tommy Bucks. Sonovabitch was waiting on me at his villa, asked me if I was ready to die yet. I didn't much care so I put my hand on my gun, I remember I could hear my blood rushin' in my ears, almost deafenin'. He laughed at me and told me to follow him, turnin' his back to me and daring me to shoot him. Fuck I wanted to," he clenched his fist, remembering the anger," I saw he had a kid, I say a kid but early to mid twenties maybe, tied to a palm tree. He told me if I didn't pull he'd kill him. I told him to let the kid go and let me ask my questions and I'd be on my way. He said I had one more chance, I shook my head. He walked to the kid and started beatin' his ass, I lunged at him. I couldn't draw on him because he hadn't done anythin' yet, three of his guys grabbed me on my way to him. I hadn't seen t'm walk up, off my game and I'd let my guard down. Tommy stood there laughin' while they worked me over, broke four of my ribs, my nose, my collarbone, cracked my sternum, dislocated my shoulder and cut my face up. They literally beat me until I couldn't stand up, I had no fight left in me and I thought it was finally over. I thought Tommy was finally gonna kill me and end all this shit, instead he put a stick of dynamite in the kid's mouth and taped it shut so he couldn't spit it out. I tried to pull my gun, he lit the fuse and I shot the kid in between the eyes before the dynamite could maim him. The report says somethin' completely different."

"You should rest," Tim could see Raylan getting tired, reliving the past taking its toll on him.

Raylan nodded," Did you happen to find my hat?"

Tim laughed despite the situation," Yeah, Ray, I told you already. We found your damn hat. It's in the car."

"Good," his side burning he pushed the button for more Morphine and let it drag him back to sleep.

"He's pushing it," Tim said once he was asleep," He wants outta Miami."

"I think he knows he's in no position to fight anyone who's coming for him," Rachel added," and he doesn't want Tim caught in the crossfire, it's his way of protecting you."

"I'm not exactly at one-hundred percent here," Tim admitted," I can't exactly hold a rifle but I'm still good with my left hand if you put a pistol in it."

"I think, for once, Raylan might be right," Art put his badge back on his belt," as soon as we can get him outta here we should."

"They'll try again and again until they get him," Rachel put her hand on her hip.

"For the first time in his life, Raylan has something to live for," Art nodded at Tim," somebody he wants to protect at all costs. Every decision he makes has you in mind."

"Then let's get him outta here so he can relax and heal up," Tim stretched his good arm, Raylan felt the movement and took advantage of it, snuggling into the open space," can someone go get his fuckin' hat?"

"Him and that God damn hat…" Art shook his head.

"I'll go get it," Rachel smirked.


	11. Homebound

CH 11 Homebound

Art stretched out on the couch," We were planning to go back to Kentucky tomorrow."

"Doctor's not gonna let him go yet," Tim answered," I don't know if Kentucky's where he wants to go really."

"That's what he said."

"He's been feverish and delirious for the past couple of days," Tim rolled his injured shoulder a bit to get the stiffness out.

"How're you doing?" Art asked.

"It hurts but I'm okay," Tim admitted," I have to be right now, Raylan needs *me* for once and I'm not about to let him down."

"Good."

Rachel came back, in her hands was a familiar Stetson-style ten gallon cowboy hat," Asleep again?"

"Yeah, but he ate something for the first time in God knows how long," Tim looked down at the sleeping cowboy with a fondness in his eyes.

"I think we'll go back to the hotel room tonight," Art gathered the empty take out boxes and put them all back in the large brown paper bag to throw away," There is one thing they're not gonna let him leave without doing, if the Miami PD will let him leave the state at all."

"Oh?" Tim looked up as if suddenly realizing there were other people in the room besides him and Raylan.

"Miami still wants his statement, and you two as well."

"Shit," Tim had completely forgotten about them.

"Only reason they haven't been buggin' the shit outta you is because Raylan's been in intensive care and I told them if anyone tried to question him I'd come down like the wrath of God Himself."

"That and Raylan has enough friends down here that the local agents have been personally taking shifts to guard his room. They're not getting paid for this, mind you," Rachel chimed in," I was talking to one of them on my way out this morning, he asked me how Raylan was doing."

"I'll talk to him about it when he wakes up," Tim promised," for now I'm gonna let him sleep."

"Yeah, I looked into flights outta here and back to Kentucky earlier. There's nothing direct, we'd have to stop off and hop a second plane," Art pulled up the flight lists on his phone.

"He looks better," Tim said.

"Yeah but we need to make sure he has the energy, and the immune system to make it all the way back to Kentucky. I dont know how Buck's men got him down here so fast."

"Probably drove all night and all day," Art answered her question.

Raylan groaned and his hand gripped Tim's arm hard enough to leave a mark," He okay?" Art leaned forward.

"Flashback," Tim stroked his hair," he's been talkin' in his sleep a lot, last one got kinda bad. He's reliving some of the stuff that happened while he was here in Miami and in the core on deployment."

"Another thing he never talks about," Rachel pondered.

"He's not the easiest person to get to know," Tim kept petting his hair, Raylan twitched," The first time he ever came over we didn't talk much at all, it was easy. Then one night he got too drunk, got sick and called me."

—"Raylan?"

"Tim, I'mmm drunnnk."

"Where the hell are you?"

"Barr by yourrr houssse."

"I'll be there in ten," Tim hung up the phone and sighed, he'd just gotten into his sweats and gotten all comfy in bed watching the adult version of Disney cartoons that came on late. He dragged himself out of bed and shoved his feet into his boots, tying them loosely. He grabbed his keys and his gun and headed to get Raylan.

It was the first time he'd ever seen Raylan drunk, actually drunk and not just buzzed. They hadn't been working together long and Tim hoped like hell this wasn't the start of a habit, he hated babysitting; but it was Friday and it wasn't like they had to work the next morning,' So he had a few too many drinks and calls his partner? Not like he can really trust anyone else around here now,' the list of people you trusted once you became a LEO was very, very short.

He left the car running when he got to the bar, he walked in to see an undeniably intoxicated Raylan sprawled on the couch by the door," Jesus Christ, Givens," he pulled the tall man to his feet and shouldered his weight.

"M'hat," Raylan slurred.

"On your head, dumbass," Tim shot back. He got him outside, staggering and mumbling apologies, and had almost reached the car when Raylan pulled away from him. He braced himself on the car and threw up," Hey Givens, get all that outta your system because I don't want you doing that in my car," Raylan put his hand up and nodded. Tim kinda felt sorry for him, he took his hat off and held it while Raylan spilled what was left in his guts onto the concrete," You good?"

"Yeah, just need to sleep it off," he let Tim help him into the car.

"I got your hat on the backseat," Tim said as he slid into the driver's seat.

"Thannksh," Raylan's eyes were closing and he was passing out.

When they got back to Tim's house, he realized he was going to have to carry the cowboy inside. Raylan was taller than him by at least three inches, if he was being nice to himself, and had him by about twenty pounds due to the difference in height. He unbuckled the seatbelt and picked him up in a fireman's carry, kicking the car door shut. He managed to free up a hand to unlock the door and get them both inside," Now what the fuck do I do with you?" He asked, knowing he wouldn't get an answer," Shower, then aspirin, then sleep," he decided and headed straight for the bathroom.

"Hey, drunken asshole," he set Raylan down next to the shower and turned on the water, Raylan slid his eyes open and nodded," shed your clothes and shower," he helped him out of his boots," I'll find you something to wear," he saw Raylan starting to strip and went into his bedroom. He searched his drawers for clothes he thought might fit, a pair of boxers, an Army shirt that was too big on him and a pair of sweats he had to roll up and he usually just slept in them. He knocked and then went in the bathroom with his head turned away from the shower," Got you something to wear. There's a brand new toothbrush, that I was gonna use actually but sure you can have it," he muttered under his breath," and your towel's on the rack."

The water stopped and the shower door slid open," Help plesss."

God he was still completely plastered, Tim handed him the towel still looking towards the door," Seriously?"

"What's the matter, Tim?" Raylan snorted," 'fraid you'll ssseeee somethin' y'like?"

"Jesus," he wasn't sure if he was praying or cursing. There was a hand on his shoulder, balancing while he put on pants more than likely. He stood there, not knowing what to do really, not wanting to turn around and see his new partner he'd had for a little over a month naked either. He figured he had to be dressed enough to be decent and turned to see his progress. Raylan had managed to step into Tim's boxers and was pulling his sweats on his hips, Tim had hoped his new partner didn't notice him take a second to study the V that curved on either side of his abs, tracing it up to his chest. Surprisingly muscular, he didn't look it underneath his button-down shirts and ties he wore under his sport coat to work in. He didn't bother with the shirt, guessing if he touched Raylan somehow they'd end up tangled together and he'd be reliving some rather private experiences he'd had overseas. Tim gave him some aspirin and a glass of Gatorade and sent Raylan to sleep it off on the couch.—

Tim had smiled in spite of himself at the memory as he'd told it to Art and Rachel, leaving out the parts where he'd spent time eye-fucking Raylan after he'd passed out on the couch. Raylan squirmed in his arms and Tim noticed he'd broke into a cold sweat, hands balling into fists and then relaxing over and over as he tried to ground himself and wake up. Whatever he was dreaming about it was traumatic, he whimpered and tossed his head," Ray," Tim whispered into his ear," Ray it's just a dream, it's not real. Wake up and come back here," Raylan was writhing now, getting harder to predict.

"Should I get a—" Rachel started.

"No," Tim said sharply," he's gonna be fine," Raylan twisted and Rachel took a step towards the door. Tim shook his head, he looked down and saw the muscles in his partner's arm tense up. He was prepared for the hit, but still saw stars," Damn you hit hard," he grabbed Raylan's wrist and tucked it under his arm and held him there, Raylan struggling. He seemed to calm and Tim braced himself, the jolt as he woke up made his whole body stiffen and Tim's nose got in the way. He felt blood gush down his face as Raylan's eyes flew open, he reached for a gun that wasn't there and panicked," Ray," Tim said firmly," what do you see?"

Raylan blinked," TV, table, oh God your nose!"

"I'm fine," Tim was holding pressure onto the crease of his nostrils to stop the bleeding," Keep going."

"Aftershave," he was still breathing hard like he'd run a wind sprint," blood, bleach, Art? Rachel?"

"You good now?" Tim tilted his head back.

"Shit, I'm sorry," Raylan inspected the damage," I probly just blacked both your eyes," concern evident in his voice.

"I'm fine," Tim repeated," how's your side?"

"Burns like hell," Raylan admitted.

"Need more Morphine?"

"I hate this damn stuff," his face was bright red, embarrassed that Rachel and Art were seeing him like this.

"If you're hurting…"

"It makes my dreams so real," Raylan grabbed the remote and pushed the button," but God dammit it hurts."

"I'm gonna go—" Tim saw the look on Raylan's face and stopped mid-sentence,' He needs me here,' he settled on the pillows," Rachel, can you bring me a towel please?"

"Of course," she went to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry," Raylan put his head in his hand and put pressure on his side.

"Ray, I've done way worse to you," Tim put his hand around Raylan's shoulders and pulled him close," it's just a nosebleed."

The Morphine started kicking in, Raylan wasn't sure if he'd pushed for another dose because he didn't want to deal with the reality in front of him or if it was because of the burning in his side. He felt awful for hurting Tim, he'd never drawn blood from him before. Sure Tim had jumped on him in the middle of the night after he'd had a flashback but that was different, Raylan got in bar fights for the sole purpose of getting his ass kicked on occasion.

—"Could you keep it down just a little?" Raylan had had just about enough of the two loud-mouthed rednecks down the bar from him. That sparked a fire in them and Raylan knew he was going to end up in a fight, kinda the point.

As the conversation escalated the larger of the two rednecks asked," It's two on one, you sure you like those odds?"

"Let's go outside," Raylan didn't really like those odds, the whiskey he'd been shooting all afternoon had other ideas however. The whiskey didn't give a damn about those odds, it was indulging the self-destructive part of Raylan Givens. The part that was so accustomed to getting beaten half to death every time something went wrong by his father that now the only thing that made sense when the shit hit the fan was to get bloodied up. Didn't really matter how.

The fight outside went sideways, he felt his ribs crack and decided that steel toed boots were brutal. Remembering how it felt when Tommy Bucks's thugs had almost killed him and he'd ended up in the hospital after watching that kid explode. He stopped fighting back and hoped these two guys would knock him out to just make it stop, the bartender came outside and racked his shotgun. The three exchanged words, most of which he couldn't understand due to the concussion he was almost positive he had now. The loud mouths left and he lay his head on the concrete and waited to pass out.

"What the hell happened?!"

'Tim?' Raylan tried to make sense of what had happened, he was supposed to be meeting Winona, not Tim," Huh?"

"Raylan, what the hell happened?" Tim had parked the car, he was bringing him inside his hotel room.

"I got my ass kicked," he said flatly.

"Aren't you a little old to be fighting?"

"I'm definitely too old to be losing."

"Shit, God dammit Raylan!" Tim lay him on the bed and went back to his car, Raylan thought he was leaving. He closed his eyes, wishing Tim would have at least closed the door first when he heard footsteps coming back. The door clicked shut and a weight was next to him on the bed, Tim pulled his boots off and tossed them in the corner. He pulled the bottom of Raylan's t-shirt up to check his chest," Son of a bitch," he helped him out of the blood-stained shirt and tossed it too.

Raylan felt someone fumbling with his belt, he felt a familiar twitch and tried to ignore it," What're you doing?"

"Getting you out of these jeans," there was a certain rawness to Tim's voice, Raylan felt that twitch again. Tim slid his jeans over his hips and down to his ankles, the pulled the hem of each leg and let them fall on the floor. He ran his hands along Raylan's joints, stopping when he felt the man tense to check for a break. He worked his way up, covering Raylan with the comforter as he got to his chest. Bruises had already started to blossom where his ribs had cracked, Tim looked at them and grimaced.

"Ow," Raylan complained as Tim wiped at the blood on his face.

"Hold still," Tim sounded pissed.

"Why're you bein' such a dick?"

"I find you passed out and drunk outside of a bar, after getting into a fight that you probably started, bring you back to your place, help you get cleaned up and you're complaining I'm too rough cleaning the blood off of your face?" Tim gave him a blank stare.  
Raylan felt like an ass," Sorry," he mumbled.

"So who did this?'

"I dunno, they took my hat."

"Yeah, that's what I'm worried about right now. Your chest is so bruised up you can't tell what color your skin is and I'm worried about the Stetson that holds your gunslinging super powers," he rolled his eyes," did you lose your cape and mask too, Zorro?"

"Shit," Raylan winced and grabbed Tim's thigh out of reflex, surprised when Tim didn't bat his hand away. He left it there a few seconds and then pulled it away.

"This one's deep," Tim carefully put steri-strips over a nasty gash above his eyebrow," I'm tryin' not to hurt you."

"You flirtin' with me, darlin'?" Raylan flashed him his best shit-eating grin.

"Fuck you," Tim shot back.

"Well since you asked nicely," Raylan sat up and leaned towards him.

Tim froze, the silence hung in the air for what seemed like forever, their noses almost touching they were so close,' This isn't the Rangers,' Tim pulled the wound he was dressing closed and pressed the tape down firmly," You're drunk."

"Yeah," Raylan snickered," you're uptight."

"You're an asshole."

"I've been told," Raylan hadn't moved away from him.

"Dick."

"You're awfully interested in it," his expression changed, the shit-eating grin was replaced with an inviting and devilish one. Daring Tim to make a move, Tim found himself breathing a little heavier.

"Go to sleep," Tim growled,' No way I'm rewarding him for voluntarily getting his ass kicked.'—

Tim had a sneaking suspicion at that point that there was something between him and the cowboy, something that was scratching at the surface but both of them were too afraid to let out. It was the first of many close encounters that left each of them raw and needy. Raylan had felt the tension too but figured Tim was just as emotionally damaged as he was and didn't want to ruin a friendship.

"I have some good news," the doctor came into the room. Tim hadn't heard him knock and stiffened at the intrusion, reaching for the gun that wasn't on his hip. His shoulder screamed at him and he ignored it," when the nurse came in earlier you were all sleeping, we drew some blood from his IV site and ran some labs. As long as he knows he has to take the Suboxone I can let him go home. I think he'll heal better there."

"That's great," Tim smiled.

"But," the doctor's face turned serious," he can *not* do anything strenuous. He's on a five pound weight restriction, if he doesn't take his meds the withdrawals could set him back months, the antibiotics will need to be continued for another month and the steroid pack for another three weeks. I'm counting on you," he nodded at Tim," to manage his pain. Getting shot, as you know, is a big deal. How's your shoulder by the way?"

"It's…"

"If you say fine I'm not letting either of you out of here."

"I was going to say it's stiff and it hurts, but I'm managing things okay. The bullet grazed me, according to the people working on me it didn't get into the real meaty part of my arm. My ankle's what hurts."

"That cast should stay on for another month, I'm writing you a prescription for some Norco and Tramadol for the muscle spasms," Tim started to open his mouth," don't insult me by thinking I can't see your hand's twitching."

"Okay," Tim smiled," So when can we get out of here?"

Raylan stretched his neck to either side, he inhaled Tim's scent on the pillow next to him and rolled into it. Realizing the bed was empty, he frowned and groped around," Ray," Tim's voice, he smiled lazily," Ray, wake up."

"Hmmm?" He opened his eyes just enough to see his…what were they now exactly? He decided it didn't matter.

"Ray, we should get you dressed," Tim sat down next to him.

"What's—?"

"We're going home," Tim kissed his forehead.


	12. Statements

Fluffy ending to this chapter, hope you enjoy it! if you do please give me some feedback and let me know how i'm doing.

* * *

CH 12 Statements

"Really?" Raylan was suddenly very awake, he gingerly sat up.

"Really," Tim pulled the hospital gown away from his chest, he loved it when Raylan smiled," but we have to make a stop by the Miami PD first," the smile faded.

"I forgot about them," Raylan sighed.

"After you give your statement they'll let you go home, Art is already down there and he's booked a flight for us."

"Let's get this over with," Raylan realized getting dressed was more of an ordeal than he thought. A nurse came in and took out his IV, and any other tubes and wires connected to him," Okay," he told him," I've learned something."

"Oh really? Enlighten me."

"Catheters are torture devices and should be named as cruel and unusual punishments for only the worst of the worst."

Tim laughed," Well you haven't gotten out of bed in almost four days and they've been pumping you full of IV fluids."

"Hey Tim, someone got to touch my dick and you didn't," that earned him an irritated glare, bonus points for pissing Tim off.

"Guarantee you I can do things to you," he leaned in close and whispered in Raylan's ear," that no one else has ever done," Raylan shivered, Tim's breath hot on his ear.

"Promise?" He nipped Tim's neck playfully.

"If you keep that up, we're not gonna leave for a few more hours," Tim warned.

"There are hotels everywhere around here," he hooked his fingers through Tim's belt loop and pulled him closer.

"That Morphine is gonna wear off eventually," Tim's voice was shaky, Raylan could smell the undertone of arousal beneath his cologne.

"You're no fun," he protested as Tim pulled away.

"Ray," he helped him pull a t-shirt over his head and eased his arms into it, Raylan wincing as it covered his side," trust me, I want to jump on you at the moment. It's taking every ounce of willpower I have not to pin you to this bed for the rest of the day, but I care about you more than I care about getting laid," he pulled the blanket back and started pulling a pair of his sweatpants over Raylan's feet.

"Y'know I'm not all that good at this."

"Good at what?" Tim pulled them up as far as they'd go without Raylan standing up.

"Whatever this is, I always seem to…"

"Ray," Tim looked up at him," Shutup," he hooked his arms under Raylan's," we can sort things out later on, right now you need to stand up so I can get you home."

"Pants are overrated."

"I'm sure they will be when we get home," Tim teased," but right now you need them so we can get out of this room. This doctor is doing you a huge favor, you do know that right?" Raylan nodded," you're supposed to be in a hospital for at least a week after you get shot."

"I know," he licked his lips.

"You're stalling," Tim accused.

"I am not—"

"The answer is yes," Raylan looked confused," yes Ray, standing up and moving around is going to hurt like hell."

"This isn't the first time I've been shot."

"No, but it's the first time you've been shot, had someone pump drugs into you while you were unconscious and had to fight off an infection due to lack of medical care."

"I hate this," the blank expression on Raylan's face said it all.

"I know, I do too," Tim paused," I don't hate taking care of you, in fact quite the opposite. If you're here I don't have to worry about you, I know where you are and if anyone tries to hurt you I'll kill them. It's simple."

"That scares me."

"What does?"

"The fact that I always seem to fuck up when I lo—" he stopped,' I love him?' His head spun.

"I'm not going anywhere," Tim put his arms around him and kissed his cheek," but we need to get going, you gotta stand up sometime."

Raylan swallowed, he was stalling. The drugs were wearing off and he could feel the hole the bullet left burning. He nodded," Fuck it," he grit his teeth and put weight on his legs. Tim pulled the sweats up over his hips and steadied him, Raylan panting against his shoulder.

"Take your time."

"Shit—I'm leanin'—on your—shoulder—" he was trying to get his balance but it was agonizing.

"It's not so bad," Tim assured him," my ankle's what hurts like hell."

"I forgot—about that," breathing was getting easier.

"You realize I'm gonna put you in a fuckin' bubble after this," Raylan laughed, then choked and his grip tightened on Tim," you're not goin' anywhere without me now that you're mine."

'Mine,' the word scared him, hell the thought of someone loving him scared him. He was fucked up, emotionally, physically, any way you looked at him. Hard to love was an expression people used when they didn't want to commit, with Raylan it was because he didn't think he deserved to be the center of someone's affections.

"I'm not taking it back," Tim interrupted his thoughts, a silence hung in the air and Raylan found his footing," God dammit, Ray."

"What?"

"It's okay to be happy," it came out harsher than he meant it.

"I—Tim, Winona and I were married for years. I have two sons, I took a job in Kentucky and she stayed behind to sell our house. I come back to surprise her and she's fuckin' the realtor-ter! whatever! I walked in the house with a dozen roses, a bottle of her favorite wine and a bottle of lotion that I planned on rubbing into every inch of her body," Raylan heard the words coming out of his mouth and couldn't stop them," I walked into my house and smelled another man's cologne, heard *my* wife makin' sounds that only I was supposed to get out of her."

"I know you're a mess right now," Tim slid an arm around his waist, careful to avoid the bandages hidden by his shirt," but can you just be happy? Can we just be happy?" He dropped the bags and pulled Raylan into him," Please."

"I don't want to hurt you and I'm the champion of fucked up relationships."

"I don't care," Tim put his hand on Raylan's cheek," this is the first time I've felt normal, happy even. I want to try and keep this, it's the first time I've connected with anyone since Jesse."

"Jesse was your lover?"

"Yeah," Raylan could see the heartache in Tim's eyes," that's why I was so scared when you went missing," his eyes stung.

"Awe," Raylan waited until he looked up at him and then put his hands on either side of Tim's face and pressed their lips together. He felt Tim surrender to him, lips parting, tongues exploring each other.

"Jesus, Ray."

"Tim," he took a slow breath," I meant what I said earlier."

"Meant what?" Tim felt almost drunk.

"I love you, more than I've ever loved anyone—and it scares the hell out of me."

"I love you too, and yes," he picked the bags up again and let Raylan lean on him as they made their way out of the room," it scares me too. Ray, the last person I loved died in my arms."

Raylan was too weak to walk all the way down to the lobby, Tim ended up getting a wheelchair for him. He was still weak, shaky like a newborn giraffe. Tim giggled at the reference, with his tall slender frame a giraffe fit perfectly. Raylan didn't want to wait for Tim while he went to get whatever vehicle he'd brought. Art had left them the SUV so Raylan could stretch out on the backseat if he needed to, the walk was exhausting. Tim didn't offer help until Raylan reached for him," You okay?"

"Tired," Raylan leaned heavily on Tim, the walking cast was getting easier to manage and he barely noticed it now. The pain had lessened to a dull ache and he didn't even think he'd need the muscle relaxers he'd been prescribed. Once they'd gotten Raylan in the van Tim pulled several pill bottles out of his pocket. Raylan was almost panting and his hand had instinctively gone to his side," Don't even think about arguing," he held his hand out with pills in his palm to Raylan who took them without a fuss,' Damn he must really be hurting.'

Two were for the pain, a strong narcotic that would probably put down an angry hippo. Tim had frowned when he saw the labels and read oxycodone on one and hydromorphone on the other. Only two of the most addictive pain medications known to man, Tim rolled his eyes,' But apparently he needs them,' and had filled the scripts anyway. Another was for muscle spasms, Skelaxin, that one was fine. The last one was a whopping dose of Xanax to be taken as needed for panic attacks and flashbacks, written on the label was instructions to take half a pill twice a day for a normal day and a whole pill if it was a bad day if Tim had read that correctly. Then there was the antibiotics and the steroids and the meds that kept him from having reactions to them as he was sensitive to one of them but needed it to fight off the infection,' How the fuck am I gonna remember all this?' He rubbed his forehead. There was a bottle of liquid Morphine just in case, a drug that very few people got but seeing as Raylan was a hero around here they handed him narcotics like candy,' Anything to make him more comfortable,' they'd told Tim. The last script was the most disturbing, Suboxone for the withdrawals. The side effects for that one alone filled at least three of the little insert's pages, nausea, vomiting, headaches, body aches, fever, chills, restlessness, mood swings, confusion, emotional instability (not like Raylan wasn't emotionally unstable enough), the list went on and on. That was the one he'd probably have to fight his new lover over taking.

Raylan wedged a pillow behind his back and stretched out on the backseat, head behind Tim's seat, hand on his good shoulder. The medicines were making him loopy already and it had only been a few minutes," What'd you give me?"

"Pain meds, anxiety meds, muscle relaxer," he added silently,' Suboxone so you don't fuckin' die from withdrawals in my backseat,' and it was only slightly sarcastic.

The drive to Miami PD was a short one, Tim hadn't given Raylan the heavy hitting pain meds so he could pretend like he was okay to give his statement. Both of them really just wanted to get the hell out of there. He helped Raylan out of the van and into the police station, by the time they'd made it to the elevators he could see Raylan was exhausted and in pain. He saw a conference room to his right," In here," he sat Raylan down on a couch and called Art," Listen, he's exhausted and in some serious pain. I don't want him doped up for the interview so can y'all come down to the conference room on the first floor? Room one fifteen A it says on the wall outside."

"That'll be fine, we'll be down in a minute."

"You okay?" He asked as he hung up the phone.

"Just wanna go home," his face was pale and the weight loss was starting to show. Tim wanted him home and in bed as fast as possible.

"I know, sweetheart," the pet name rolled off his tongue surprisingly easily, the only other person he'd ever given a pet name to was Jesse and he'd called him 'hunnibear' behind closed doors because Jesse had a serious addiction to honey. He shook the memory out of his head as Art walked in with some men in suits.

"Forgive him if he doesn't get up," Art was saying," this is Deputy Raylan Givens and his partner Deputy Tim Gutterson."

"Romero with USAA. We just need you to tell us what happened and we can all go home," he extended a hand to Raylan, who weakly shook it.

"I went to talk with Boyd Crowder in Kentucky, I'd gotten a lead on some drugs coming in—"

"From who?" He interrupted.

"I—I'm sorry?"

"Who did you get the lead from?"

Raylan searched his brain," I don't recall at the moment."

"Uh huh," the man took a note.

"So I went to speak with Boyd at the bar he runs, called Audrey's, and he went into the back to get a bottle of bourbon—"

"So you were drinking on the clock?"

"He runs a bar, no one said anything about Raylan drinking," Tim gave Romero a cold stare.

"I'm doing the interview, thank you, answer the question Mr. Givens."

"He was gettin' a bottle for the shelf, the other one was almost empty. I don't drink on the job," Raylan's side burned and he tried to ignore it," Anyway, so he came back from the storeroom and there was a man with a mask on behind him with a gun to his head. I told the man to drop the gun and showed him my badge, he told me to look behind me. I heard footsteps and saw two other men in masks aiming guns at me. I tried to diffuse the situation," the air felt stale and his side started to burn," he told me to put my guns on the floor and I reminded him that killing a Marshal is a federal crime and that Kentucky still favored the death penalty. He started hitting Boyd with his pistol, told me I was hitting the floor one way or another," his chest tightened, remembering the way it felt as the bullet tore through him, the hard floor, the way the blood pooled beneath him, his arms jerked behind him, wrists cuffed with his own handcuffs.

Tim saw what was happening, recognized it, Raylan's breathing pattern had changed. He was reliving this," Raylan?"

"If you need a minute," Art offered.

"I—" Raylan's head swam.

Tim pulled the bottle of Xanax out of his pocket, he'd intentionally brought only that one in case of something like this," Ray, take this," he approached making slow deliberate movements," Ray?" Tim touched his shoulder lightly, moving out of the way in case Raylan bolted but also in range to catch him when his body figured out he couldn't run away.

He jumped at the touch," Yeah," he popped the pill in his mouth and swallowed, Tim was glad he didn't argue," So I tried one more time to resolve things, next thing I know I'm on the floor with a bullet in my side," he fingered the wound gently," it's a blur from there, I pushed speed dial on my phone and called Tim. Then I was handcuffed and put in the back of a vehicle with Boyd. I must've passed out, because when I woke up we'd hit a bump in the road and apparently I screamed too loud and they pulled over," Tim winced at the details, even though he knew Raylan was leaving out a lot," they shot me up with somethin', I don't know what it was, and I passed out again."

"What did your tox screen show at the hospital when they ran your labs?"

"I don't remember."

"Convenient."

"Raylan tested positive for the street drugs these assholes forced on him," Raylan recognized that look on Tim's face, he'd seen it before.

—His head jerked sideways as Arlo slapped him, Raylan moved his teeth back and forth. Nothing broken or chipped so all clear, he half expected the man to take another swing honestly. Art was holding Tim at bay, the look in Tim's eyes icy and primal. He had a feeling that if he didn't play this off somehow, Tim was going to lunge past Art and beat the shit out of his father. He turned to face Arlo, the child inside him burned with rage but he put on a sardonic grin," Now Arlo, use your words," he strode confidently past his father, his face red and stinging; but he'd won this round.—

"The pain of a gunshot wound is horrific, how do we know he wasn't volunteering for relief from Mr. Crowder?"

Tim's blood boiled, he glanced at Raylan who stared at the man with indignation and defiance in his eyes," In the twenty years I've been serving this country, I have never voluntarily taken any illegal substances," he said through his teeth.

"Is it true, Mr. Givens, that you are now prescribed…I can't even pronounce the actual name of this, Suboxone? And if so you mean to tell me that you're our very first, involuntary addict?"

"We're done here," Art waved his hands," Listen, I tried to be nice about this and give you people a chance to get his statement but I can see where this is going. The interrogating, you're leading him into the territory to make accusations and I won't have it," he motioned to Tim," he's been through enough, help him get outta here."

"Yes sir, boss," Tim extended his hand, Raylan took it and stood painfully.

"Mr. Givens, you can't just walk out of here…"

"He doesn't have to," Tim put an arm under Raylan's shoulder," I'll carry him if he can't because the fact is he's hurting too badly from the fuckin' bullet he took in his chest," the man walked towards Tim and Tim squared off with him," Please, make the mistake of putting a hand on me to try and get to Raylan," he smiled his wide 'I'm gonna kill you' smile.

"This isn't over, I can call in the feds…"

"All you pussies in your three piece suits, do you know what it feels like to have a bullet rip through you? To get the wind knocked out of you and land flat on your back, looking up at someone who wants nothing more than to end your existence?" Tim went dark," he didn't shoot anybody!"

"For once, Mr. Givens has a conflict in which he isn't fast enough to kill someone. I've read his file!"

"Can we just remember I was found zip tied to a God damn futon from Walmart?!" Raylan shot back," Trust me, Romero, if I *wanted* drugs I wouldn't have to get myself shot, abducted and dragged down here to some shithole to get them!"

"That's enough!" Raylan recognized this voice," it's good to see you, Ray-Ray. How're you feelin'?"

"Like I got shot, again," Raylan extended a hand and the man hugged him.

"I'm glad to see you alive."

"It's good to see you too, Dan."

"Is Romero giving you problems?" He glared at the man in the suit across the room.

"He's just tryin' to do his job," Raylan said innocently, but Dan read it as a yes," I don't think you've met my boss, Art Mullen, and my partner, Tim Gutterson."

"Pleasure to meet you both, I'm Dan Grant, Raylan's old boss," he looked at Art," I'm so glad I don't have your job as his babysitter anymore," Art couldn't help but laugh," So Ray-Ray, where is your hat?"

"In the van," he went back to lean on Tim, needing the physical support to stand straight but also the comfort of someone he loved touching him. There were too many people in this room and he was beginning to feel a bit caged, claustrophobia creeping up on him.

"I'll have you write me a statement or something and either email or mail it to me when you're feeling up to it,' Dan held out his arm to help support Raylan's weight," Let's get you on a plane, you don't want to miss your flight," Tim decided he liked Dan," I hear Deputy Gutterson found you, thank you."

"He's my partner, he'd do the same for me.'

"He's a good man," Dan smiled warmly," even if he doesn't think so," the two practically carried Raylan back to the van.

"I appreciate the sentiment, but I think you mis-pronounced 'asshole' again," Raylan scoffed.

"I know you're hurt too, I'll help you," he slid his arm behind Raylan's back and took most of his weight. Raylan stumbled once or twice but managed to make it halfway across the parking lot before he collapsed.

"Shit," Tim put himself between Raylan and the pavement, catching him before he could hit the ground," I gotcha," he whispered into his ear.

"I'll go get the van," Art ran ahead.

"Ray-Ray," Dan was helping Tim pick him up," why didn't you call me and tell me you were coming?"

"Didn't—think—"

"I'm gonna have Romero's ass for grilling you like that, I'm real sorry about that. You shouldn't even be outta the hospital yet, let alone here."

"I'm okay," Raylan lied, Tim helping him into the backseat.

"I've heard and said that before," Dan helped situate him and get him comfortable," Take care of him for me, Gutterson."

"You got it, boss," he slid into the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot," Just a few minutes, Ray, let me get a few blocks away and I'm coming to check on you."

"Mmmmhmmm," Raylan couldn't manage a sentence. He clutched at the bandages on his side, he hadn't remembered it being so damn painful the last time he'd been shot.

Tim pulled into a supermarket parking lot and crawled into the backseat," Let me see," he moved Raylan's hands and pulled the t-shirt up," bled a little but not bad," he grabbed a small zip pouch and a bottle of water," I know you're hurting," he took pills from two different bottles," this might put you to sleep but at least I know you won't be in pain."

"Thanks," Raylan took the pills and drank half the bottle of water.

"I'm here for you, Ray," Tim brushed his hair out of his eyes, then leaned in a kissed him gently on the lips.

"Gonna be hard to get used to," Raylan smiled.

"Well figure it out," Tim was back in the driver's seat.

Raylan put his hand on Tim's shoulder as he drove, he could see Tim smile in the reflection on the window. His vision got blurry and his body started going numb," Love you," his hand started to lose its grip.

"It's okay, Ray," he could hear the smile on Tim's lips in his voice," I love you too." 


	13. Kentucky

CH 13 Kentucky

Rachel and Art were waiting for them at the airport, Tim handed the keys to the van to Officer Noodles," So this is your guy?" He eyed Raylan," He looks familiar."

"Used to work here," Raylan was comfortably drunk.

"Heard stories about the famous Marshal Cowboy," he pointed at Raylan's hat, which had found its way back on his head.

"Don't believe 'em," Raylan smiled.

"I hope you recover quickly," Officer Noodles offered a hand and helped Tim get Raylan out of the backseat," Art said you were banged up a bit, so I got a wheelchair for you."

"Thanks," Tim giggled, Raylan was too doped to even be embarrassed.

Raylan shifted uncomfortably in the airline seat," You okay?" Art asked.

"Yeah," Raylan pulled his hat over his eyes," I'm just tired."

"Get you some rest," Art pulled out a magazine.

Raylan reached into the seat next to him, searching for Tim's hand," Y'know we're gonna have to talk about whatever that is eventually," Art didn't look up.

"Tim and I are seeing each other," Raylan said it matter of factly.

"Well there it is," Tim grinned.

"There'll be paperwork," Art turned the page.

"There's always paperwork," Raylan adjusted his hat.

"If we don't get that started as soon as you get back to the office they'll transfer one of you."

"I like working with Tim," Raylan was definitely feeling the meds.

"I know, and you're good together."

Tim had given Raylan the window seat, he figured he could protect him easier if he was in the aisle seat. Rachel had taken the window seat on the other side and Art was in the aisle next to Tim. Tim rubbed small gentle circles on top of Raylan's hand with his thumb, the last person he'd held hands with like this was Jesse. It felt natural, comforting, even if his lover was passing out from the copious amount of narcotics in his system. Tim leaned back and pulled a book out of his bag.

"Fairytales?" Raylan slurred.

"You guessed it," Tim was surprised he was still conscious.

"Nerd."

"Asshole."

"Fobbit."

"How do you even know what that is, Jarhead?"

"Spend enough time at Glenco, you pick things up," he looked at Tim from beneath the brim of his hat.

"You should sleep, Ray."

"Starvin' actually."

The banter was refreshing, Tim looked over the menu. There was a loud crackling sound, the airline's speakers coming on for the pilot to make his announcements. Raylan jerked awake, hand going to his side for his gun, knees hitting the floor to take cover. Tim joined him and caught him as he doubled over, realizing Raylan thought he'd heard gunshots," Ray, it's just the static on the radio," he put his hand firmly on the back of Raylan's neck.

"Jesus," Raylan groaned, pain exploding through his chest.

"Let's get you back in your seat," Tim picked him up gently.

"Fuck," Raylan felt a cold wave of adrenaline wash over him.

"It's part of it," Tim gripped his hand.

"Part of what?"

"The PTSD," Tim leaned their seats back and was glad they were riding at the back of the plane," it'll be bad for awhile, but it'll get manageable."

"I'm fine," Raylan settled his hat back on his head and pulled it over his eyes, Tim knew he was lying but didn't call him on it," I got over that TSDP stuff a long time ago."

"Okay, sweetheart," Tim decided not to engage this battle, neither of them would win. He could feel that Raylan's hand was shaking and see him struggling to steady his breathing,' He's gonna have a fuckin' panic attack at this rate,' Tim sighed, he'd been in denial when he got back from Afghanistan too. Military let him finish his tour, but tried to put him on noncombat assignments until he got out. After Jesse died he only had a few months left, but instead of being gun shy he was the exact opposite. He turned bloodthirsty and volunteered for more assignments, any excuse to get behind that scope. His commanding officer had allowed it, he showed no signs of PTSD until night fell and the nightmares started. When he'd gotten back stateside was when it had started, he wasn't gun shy but he'd go back into combat mode when a car would backfire, he'd take a fighting stance when someone bumped into him, he couldn't stand being touched. He'd gone to Glenco to train with the Marshals, Raylan wasn't there, probably in Miami at that point chasing mobsters. Raylan leaned against him and put his head on Tim's shoulder. Tim smiled and kissed the top of his head, noticing the Stetson was now in Raylan's lap.

For the first time in his life since his moms died, he wanted comfort. He decided to take a chance that Tim would provide, he had no reason to believe he'd get rejected but this was all still so new to him he was hesitant. He cuddled into Tim, putting his hat in his lap. He tensed for a few seconds, trying to read Tim's body language. He was in deep thought about something, but he felt the tension ease out of his body and a kiss in his hair. He closed his eyes and drifted to sleep.

A few hours later they landed in Tennessee, Tim felt good enough to stop taking his pain medicine altogether and had settled for Tylenol and the occasional muscle relaxer,' I hope this doesn't mess with my aim.'

"Got an officer coming from Lexington to pick us up," Art said as they grabbed their bags off of the cart, too many guns in them to be put on the turning belts. Airport security had loaded them up personally," there's a cafe' that's supposed to be good across the street."

The drugs had started wearing off and Raylan was suddenly very aware of every person and every sound in the crowded terminal. People talking on their phones, hurrying to get to their loading zones, beeping of the security's wands as they scanned people and bags, his head spun. Glad he wasn't having to walk yet,' I can't wait to get off of these damn drugs,' he pulled his hat down and tried to block it all out. By the time they'd gotten outside he was shaking, Tim touched his shoulder and he jumped.

"Hey, we can't take this with us," Tim gestured to the chair," as much as I'm sure you're enjoying this drivin' miss daisy's gotta stop."

"Screw you," he forced a smile, Tim noticed.

"You okay?"

"No," he snapped without meaning to, seeing the look on Tim's face," I'm sorry."

"You need to eat something and take your meds," Tim helped him up," it's the drugs, Ray, I'm not taking that personally."

"Too much going on," Raylan was clinging to him.

"Let us take the bags," Rachel slid them off of Tim's shoulder," You just worry about our favorite cowboy."

The booth at the cafe' was about as comfortable as he was going to get, Raylan stretched out while he waited for his food. Tim sat next to him, Raylan's legs across his lap. Felt better than the airline seat and Tim rubbing his knee made it as close to heaven as he was gonna get. The food smelled just as delicious as it tasted, he'd ordered steak tips with mashed potatoes and mixed vegetables, Raylan was surprised he had an appetite.

"He'll be staying with me when we get back," Tim was answering Art, Raylan had missed part of the conversation. He didn't really care, Tim's hands working magic on his leg under the table rubbing the stiffness out of his calf," You okay with that?"

"Practically live there anyway," Raylan admitted," have more clothes at your place than I do mine."

"Considering you've been living in a motels…"

"I wanted to make sure this job was permanent and that I had reason to stay in Kentucky."

"Looks like you have a reason now," Rachel smiled at him.

"I think I'll stick around," his eyes never left Tim.

"At some point I'll need you to write your statement and send it to me, I'll make sure it gets to the boys in Miami," Art sipped his coffee.

"Thanks Art."

"Take these," Tim handed him a pill bottle," I already sorted them, this is your next dose."

Art was surprised when Raylan didn't argue, he just poured the pills in his mouth and drank the rest of his tea,' Tim is good for you,' his cell went off," Our ride's here."

Raylan managed to get out of the seat and walked slowly on his way out to the van, he noticed a blue sedan with a man sitting in it. The man was staring at him,' You look familiar,' Raylan stopped.

"C'mon sweetheart," Tim decided the pet name had a nice ring to it, he slid an arm around Raylan's hips. Being shorter than his partner had its advantages," What's wrong?"

"That guy in the blue sedan," Raylan glanced at Tim," he looked familiar."

"I'm not saying he isn't, but for awhile everyone's gonna look familiar or suspicious," Tim hooked his thumb through a belt loop," I'll keep an eye out though."

"I feel like I'm goin' crazy," Raylan rubbed the side of his nose.

"It'll be like that for awhile, I want to get you home where you feel safe."

"Yeah, I feel naked without my gun," he absently touched where Tim's hand rested, the place he usually kept his holster.

"I'm off my pain meds," Tim said as they walked to the van," So I'll have mine, I got shot in the left shoulder so it shouldn't fuck up my aim."

"You sure you're okay to be off of those?"

"I'm still taking my antibiotics, pain's not bad at all. Really."

"And your foot?"

"Dull ache at worst."

"And I'm going back to work tomorrow. You're a shitty liar, Tim, y'know that doncha?"

"Nothing I can't handle, Ray," Tim scanned the parking lot," I've had worse."

"Well don't lie to me."

"Deal, I'm sorry," Tim opened the door to the van. He'd seen the blue sedan, the man in it had seemed uninterested in them but he was still watching him.

"Am I boring? You seem distracted."

"The blue sedan," Tim crawled into the backseat with him," I was just checking out what you'd told me."

"I realize I'm bein' an ass."

"Under the circumstances I completely understand," Tim closed the door, and moved close to Raylan," You're in pain and scared," he kissed him lightly," Besides, I can't stay mad at you."

"My charm?"

"It's the hat," Tim smirked," shit gets me hard."

Raylan laughed, glad the pain meds allowed it without too much protest," Gonna make me wear it to bed?"

"I'd be offended if you didn't," he was glad they were alone," I know you're new at this, but the thought of you in my bed with that damn Stetson on drives me crazy."

"Good to know," he picked up his hat, slicked his hair back and put it on his head.

"Fuck you," Tim said playfully.

"Plannin' on it?"

"You have no idea…" lust filled his eyes.

Art slid into the front seat, Rachel getting in the back with the guys. Tim in the middle and Raylan stretched across their thighs, the only comfortable position he could find. Tim rolled up his jacket and put it behind Raylan's head," You're more comfortable," he mumbled softly.

"You got it," he moved over and Raylan lay his head on Tim's lap," Better?"

"Perfect," he can feel the drugs pulling at his consciousness, Tim started rubbing his neck. He sighed and moaned softly.

"It's a few hours before we get home, go back to sleep," Tim worked the stress out of his shoulders and Raylan nodded off. The ride was easy, Raylan sleeping under the influence of the narcotics Tim had given him to keep him comfortable. He put his jacket behind his head and decided to take a nap too, he looked over at Rachel," Thank you."

"For what?" She looked surprised.

"Coming with me," Tim smiled at her," helping me find him."

"He'd have done the same thing for us. Get some sleep yourself," Tim tilted his head against the window, he'd have a cramp when he woke up but Raylan was breathing easy and not hurting so he'd deal with it. Hell he'd deal with just about anything if it meant Raylan was okay.

"Tim?" Rachel touched his arm lightly," we're here."

"I slept through the entire ride?" Tim yawned and stretched his neck.

"Do you know you snore a little?" Raylan was grinning at him.

"You snore a lot," he shot back sleepily," Where are we?"

"Your house," Rachel pointed.

"I'll help you get your bags and everybody's favorite target dummy in the house, then I'm headed to the office," Art was unloading his bags from the trunk.

"Keys are in the small front pocket."

"Found 'em, I'll go unlock the door just get Raylan."

Tim put his arms under Raylan's as Rachel opened the door, he let Raylan lean on him as needed on their way in the house. He stretched out on his favorite side of the couch and Tim pulled his boots off. Art and Rachel helped Tim get the bags in and situated before saying their goodbyes and heading back to the office. Alone in the house, Tim knelt on the floor by the couch and put his hand over Raylan's," It's good to be home."

"I hate hospitals," he agreed.

"You end up in enough of them," Tim sighed.

"I'm sorry about that."

"I just worry about you, every time you go somewhere I wonder if you're coming back in one piece," Raylan saw the discoloration under Tim's eyes and just how exhausted all this had made him.

"Can we go to bed?"

"Easy cowboy," Tim grinned," what kinda girl do you think I am?"

"I was hoping you were kinda slutty," he leaned in and his lips met Tim's, gently but the want for more was there a the surface.

"We need to shower, I need to make you a doctor's appointment, then we can go to bed," Tim's breathing had sped up after their lips parted," Let's get you showered and comfy."

"You're just dyin' to get me outta these clothes."

Tim put his hands up," Okay you caught me," he helped Raylan into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Raylan tried pulling Tim's shirt over his head and winced," Stop it," Tim scolded," You'll never heal if you keep that up," he slid the shirt over Raylan's head and then pulled it down his arms," I'm supposed to be taking care of you, so let me," he slid the sweats and boxers to the floor and tried not to stare. Raylan was grinning at him, he blushed besides himself.

"Not exactly the most romantic..." he put his hands on the counter for support and watched Tim undress. He was a few years younger and it showed, muscles taunt beneath his back, chest swollen but well formed.

"Don't get any ideas," Tim put his arm around his partner and stepped into the shower with him. For the first time the two were alone, naked and wet. Lips found each other as soapy hands roamed over bruised skin gingerly, Raylan's chest turning purple with bluish tints as his body tried to deal with the trauma. By the time they were both clean, their eagerness was obvious. Tim stepped out first, wrapping a towel around his waist and reaching for Raylan. He dried him off, working gently around any painful areas. Raylan was getting tired again, he pressed himself against his lover and ran his hands down Tim's sides drawing a hissed breath from him.

"Bed, now, "he breathed in his ear, Tim growled a moan.

"Ray, you're hurt," he tried to resist.

"I'll take my meds," Raylan was nipping his neck.

"I don't want to hurt you—"

"Then don't," Tim was moving with him towards the bed, Raylan pulling him lightly.

"Only if you take your meds first," he grabbed the zip pouch of pills from the counter.

"Deal," Raylan sat on the bed, Tim took out the pain pills, muscle relaxers, antibiotics and Suboxone and handed him a glass of water. Raylan swallowed the pills and set the glass on the nightstand," Now, come here."

Tim crawled on top of Raylan, avoiding his side, and pulled the blankets over them. He kissed him deeply and ran his fingers through wet hair, normally he'd have bitched about his sheets and pillows getting wet but under the circumstances he didn't care. He felt like he would explode if Raylan so much as touched him, planting kisses from his lips down his jawline and into the hollow of his throat. Raylan groaned and arched into him, wincing slightly," Ray, I don't think your body is ready for this."

"Don't—stop—" he panted," I'm—fine—"

Tim settled between his knees and threw the blanket over his head and onto Raylan's chest. Raylan threw his head back as he felt Tim's mouth on him, working magic and sending sparks up his body. He grabbed at Tim's hair and guided the pace, Tim never once stopping. He felt tension building and realized they'd never talked about boundaries, 'Do I tell him to stop when...?' He pulled up on Tim's hair to let him know he was close, Tim didn't stop. His hips bucked and ecstasy exploded through his body.

Tim emerged and lay on the pillow next to him," You okay?"

"Mmmhmmmm."

"You need to rest," Tim kissed his cheek and put his arm over his chest protectively.

"You didn't get anythin' out of that though," he turned towards him.

"You're injured," Tim snuggled into him," there'll be time later," Raylan felt him adjust his hips against his thigh.

"I don't want you to...

"Ray," Tim stopped him," you're injured, you need rest and those meds I just gave you will knock you out before we can finish. Get some rest and don't worry about me."

"I feel rude now," he kissed Tim's forehead.

"I want this just as bad as you do, but your health isn't worth a blowjob. I'm just glad you're here and you're alive," Tim smiled and closed his eyes," That's all I need."


	14. Sweet Sentiments

There are some adult situations in this chapter, there will be more to follow. There will be full blown scenes coming up in the next few chapters, but for now enjoy some softly detailed interactions. Lots of fluff in this chapter!

* * *

CH 14 Sweet Sentiments

Raylan woke up alone, something he wasn't accustomed to anymore. He shivered and pulled the blankets higher, his side still burned and his ribs had a dull ache to them but at least he didn't feel like he'd been run over by a truck anymore. He propped up on an elbow,' Maybe Tim went for a run,' he remembered how Tim went for a run on their days off. Rain or shine he was outside in his favorite t-shirt and sweats, the thought of Tim coming back in glistening with sweat and glowing with runner's high made him smile. He ran his hand through his hair, wincing as he remembered his forehead had stitches in it still.

He pulled the blanket back and put his feet on the floor, noticing Tim hadn't bothered to put his clothes back on while he was asleep. He preferred to sleep naked but Winona always hated it, so he'd gotten accustomed to wearing boxers to bed. He stood up, carefully and slowly, his chest aching and his side keeping him from straightening his body completely. Shakily he walked to the bathroom, as he passed the mirror he saw his face for the first time since he'd been abducted. Deep purple bruising around the stitches, which were covered by a very neat bandage that he was sure Tim had taped in place, his eye was blacked, small cuts littered one side of his face where he'd been thrown into the back of the van. He washed his face with his hands, avoiding his forehead entirely and braced on the sink to catch his breath.

"Ray, what are you doin' out of bed?" Tim slid his arms around Raylan's chest," You need to rest."

"Just went to the bathroom, I'm okay."

"Your knuckles are white," Raylan looked down, he hadn't realized he was gripping the sink so tightly," C'mon back to bed."

"You comin' with me?"

"If you'll eat something," Tim pulled blankets over him," You want some clothes?"

"Do I need any?" Raylan flashed bedroom eyes and Tim felt his face get hot.

"I hope not," Tim ran his eyes over his lover's hungrily," I'll go get you a plate," he tossed the tv remote on the bed next to Raylan," I'll be back in a sec, put it on whatever you want," Raylan nodded and started flipping through channels. Tim went into the kitchen and started plating breakfast,' The bruises and cuts and that large bandage covering his side,' he shook his head,' Ray, you're so lucky to be alive,' he grabbed a paper cup and put the morning's meds in it.

"Wow darlin'," Raylan was surprised to see Tim come back with a tray. The eggs, bacon, and toast smelled delicious and his mouth watered," I had no idea you could cook."

"Gets tiring eatin' the same shit every day in the Army," Tim set the tray down and got the box he'd put wound care supplies in to keep Raylan's bandages fresh," Take those meds, you need new bandages and I need to clean those wounds so you don't get another infection."

"How're you feelin'?"

"M'fine."

"Tim," Raylan's voice demanded him to look at him," you're a shitty liar."

"So are you," Tim snorted," really, Ray, it's not bad at all. I'm about to dress my shoulder while you eat."

"No, you're gonna let me do it because you're right handed."

"If it makes you feel better, princess," he rolled his eyes," just take your meds before they lapse and you start hurting again," he didn't add how much he hated seeing Raylan in pain. When he'd first woke up in the hospital after Doyle shot him and Tim had seen him struggle after backing off the pain meds to talk long enough to give a coherent statement, his stomach did flips.

"It would," Raylan swallowed the pills in the cup," When can I get off…?"

Tim knew what he was asking, Raylan hated taking the Suboxone. The high wasn't worth it and he felt like a junkie, he decided to play dumb instead and try to avoid the conversation," I'll take care of that whenever you want," he leaned in and nipped Raylan's shoulder.

"Don't play dumb, darlin'."

"Oh I'm not playin'," Tim grinned," I'm an idiot, you can ask anybody," this drew a laugh from Raylan, immediately after he grit his teeth and a hand went to his side," Sorry."

"Worth it," Raylan smiled weakly and went back to his food," but you know what I'm askin'."

"I know," Tim propped pillows up and sat beside him," I don't want you hurtin', Ray."

"There's a difference between pain meds to keep me from bein' in agony and dopin' me like I'm a junkie."

"Ray, please," Tim stretched his arm, rolling the sore shoulder and feeling the wound move with it.

"I'm sorry," Raylan finished his toast," by the way, breakfast was delicious."

"I'm glad you liked it," Tim popped his neck and felt almost instant relief.

"C'mere and lemme look at your shoulder," Raylan grabbed his bicep and pulled him closer.

"It's not bad," Tim turned and took his shirt off.

"Bleedin' a little," Raylan peeled the tape away.

"Normal."

"Tim, I've been shot a few times now," he saw Tim's face when he said it and regretted it," I meant, let me take care of the one thing that I can right now," his hands were gentle as he cleaned and re-bandaged the closing hole.

"I hate that you got hurt," Tim stretched again," your turn."

"I'm gonna be okay," Raylan leaned back on the pillows, Tim seemed to have an obsession with them.

"If you listen and take your meds," Tim pointed to his side," this one first or your head?"

"Meds haven't made me dizzy yet."

"Forehead it is," he used q-tips to get the crusted blood away from the stitches and put antibiotic cream in between them.

"I got a look at myself in the mirror this morning," Raylan's eyes were closed.

"It always looks worse than it is," Tim put gauze over the wound and started taping it down.

"I look pretty rough," Raylan frowned," you still gonna love me if it scars my face?" He opened his eyes a little and added," My good looks are my best asset."

"I don't give a shit about scars," Tim smiled, Raylan felt something stir in him that he hadn't felt in years," It's you I love, not your looks," he kissed him, pulling away before it got too passionate," but they sure don't hurt," he winked.

"Always did have a thing for blue eyes," Raylan drawled.

Tim took note of the slur in his speech," Lemme have a look at your side, you look like you're feelin' a little more relaxed," he pulled the dressing away from the skin, careful to pull towards the wound to keep it closed as much as possible. Despite the pain-killers he squirmed as Tim cleaned him up, the packing was bloody but there was no pus," It's not infected anymore," Tim started repacking it and Raylan held his hand up.

"Hang on," he shifted and caught his breath," Okay."

"I'm almost finished," Tim taped a fresh dressing down," There," he propped on his elbow and put his hand in Raylan's," You okay?"

"Now I am," Raylan snuggled into him," still hurts a lot. It will for another month or so, I need to put a gun back in my hand soon."

"Yeah, you gotta make sure your body can handle the kickback first. One step at a time, lover," he traced the lines of Raylan's chest and down to the scar on his other side," Remember how long it took for this one to heal."

—His eyes opened slowly, Winona by his bed and sharp stabbing pains in his side. He grit his teeth and arched his back a little to try and compensate, she put her hand on his,' Please stop actin' like you still care,' his head swam with the pain meds he was sure they were pumping into his veins.

"Raylan?" There was concern in her voice although he couldn't tell if it was real or if she was just putting on a show. He looked around, searching for one of his partners or his boss or really anyone except Winona," How're you feelin'?"

"M'fine," his head pounded, he wanted to add,' You left me, now please go away before I start to believe that you give a damn.'

"I told you not to go, Raylan dammit," she started nagging at him, not really fussing over him but probably more annoyed she had to put on a show and be here for him," What were you thinking?"

"M'fine," he repeated, wishing she'd go away and either send in one of his coworkers or just leave him alone so he could sleep or at least fake sleep to keep people away from him.

"This is what I always worried about," she was going on," when we were married I always worried when the phone rang, I just had some officer pull me over and…"

"Win'na," he groaned," please," his muscles tensed, she did know how to stress him out.

"Do you have any idea…"

"Ray?" Tim's voice, the tension in his body eased," Art said you were awake. I hope I'm not intruding."

"No, s'fine," Raylan slurred.

"They rubbin' your feet for you, princess?" Tim poked his foot, Raylan realized to check his reflexes.

"Mmmhmmm, one of th'nurses even offers happy endings if you ask nice," he winked.

"Raylan!" Winona was even more angry," How can you joke about this?!"

"Part of th'job," Raylan sighed.

"It's not part of the job! You shouldn't have—"

"Win'na, y'knew what I was," he put his hand over the wound and spoke through gritted teeth," when y'married me."

"You should really try to get some rest," Tim sensed he wanted her gone and Raylan could tell he was tired of listening to Winona bitch at him too," Art wanted to talk to you."

"Tired…" Raylan closed his eyes.

"Well, buttercup, I'm workin' detail and they got me in here with you all night."

"Y'piss off Art?"

"Somethin' like that," Tim settled into a chair and pulled out a book," so he's got me babysitting your stupid ass tonight."

"I'll be back in the morning," Winona threw her hands up," Apparently you two would rather joke about how fuckin' stupid you were today," she stormed out.

"Thank you," Raylan grabbed a handful of the sheets.

"I was serious," Tim pushed a button and Raylan felt like the room was spinning," you should rest."

"Please—stay—" he was in too much pain to feel stupid for asking.

"I'm not going anywhere," Tim scooted the chair next to Raylan's bed and lay his head on his arm next to Raylan's.

"Good," Raylan closed his eyes.—

"Yeah, I remember," Raylan wondered how he'd missed the fact that Tim had been in love with him for so long," When does Art want you back at the office?"

"I don't know, he said he'd stop by this evening after work and check on us then deci—" there was a knock at the front door, Raylan jumped," It could be Rachel," he patted Raylan's shoulder," can you get dressed?"

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt right now," Raylan grabbed a pair of boxers and some sweatpants.

"Don't bother with a shirt, if you stretch wrong you'll tear those stitches," Tim called back as he walked down the hall. He grabbed his gun on the way, truth was he was worried the guys who'd abducted Raylan would send more men to finish the job," Who is it?"

"Boyd Crowder."

'How does he know where I live?' Tim opened the door," What are you doing here?"

"Ava and I came to check on Raylan," he acted like this should explain everything.

"He's fine."

"My aren't you protective," Boyd didn't move, when Tim didn't either he added," Raylan saved my life, I figured I'd at least pay him a visit and thank him."

"I brought some fried chicken," Ava held out a basket.

"Tim?" Raylan's voice," Who is it?"

"Boyd and Ava," Tim called back.

"What?"

"Doctor said he's not to be stressed," Tim growled," if he starts hurting you make yourselves scarce, y'hear?"

"I have no intention of upsetting my dear friend," Boyd put his hands up defensively," I just wanted to wish him well, if he's not up for visitors we completely understand."

"He's not really."

"I hear you were injured in the line of duty as well," Ava started," Please, let me come in and help you out a little?"

"Raylan gets uncomfortable and I kick your ass, got it?" Tim looked at Boyd.

"Duely noted," Boyd held up his right hand," I won't do anything out of line, scout's honor."

Tim went back to the bedroom," Boyd and Ava brought some food over, Boyd says he wants to talk to you," he helped Raylan into one of his shirts," I can get rid of him."

"Nah, unless you're takin' me to bed to take advantage of me."

"Keep it up and I might."

"Raylan!" Boyd opened his arms as Raylan came and sat in Tim's recliner.

"Hey Boyd, Ava," he nodded to them.

"Funny seein' you without your hat," Ava smiled.

"It's in the bedroom," Raylan pushed his hair out of his eyes.

"I'm glad to see you're up and moving around," Boyd started.

"M'fine."

"I am sure glad to hear it, I was worried about you. Heroin and oxy are not easy habits to kick."

Raylan raised an eyebrow," I do not have a habit."

"You *didn't* have a habit," Tim stood beside the recliner and glared at Boyd," but I was surprised at your tolerance for the drugs, they shot you up with some very generous doses."

"Boyd," Tim warned.

"I'm okay," Raylan leaned forward, to Boyd it would look intimidating but Tim knew it was from the pain in his side and not wanting to sit straight up," Boyd, I have never done a drug in my life and, until I was forced to, I never planned on it."

"I know someone that works at the outpatient clinic was all I was offering, I'm sure they have you on something for the withdrawals. You look like you're feelin' too good to be goin' through them unassisted."

"Boyd weren't you just leaving?" Tim was furious.

"I know what it looks like," Boyd stood," but if you need someone to go pick up his meds for him, I'm offering. I'm sure a Deputy U.S. Marshal doesn't want to be seen at a place like that."

"No thank you," Tim said through his teeth.

"Thank you anyway," Raylan was starting to fall asleep, the drugs pulling at his conscious state.

"Well, I see he's tiring out, love," Ava picked up her purse," We best be goin'," she went to Raylan and squeezed his hand," I'm glad to see you're doin' all right."

"I could beat the shit outta that backwoods, redneck—" Tim started cursing once they'd left.

"Tim," Raylan interrupted," I believe you were about to take me to bed," he flashed bedroom eyes again.

"Ray," the look in his eyes was feral," you're tempting something that your body can't keep up with right now."

"We'll see about that," Raylan reached out his hand, Tim took it and Raylan pulled to get him closer. Tim caught himself on the back of the recliner, Raylan was surprisingly strong even on pain meds.

He looked down and was about to say something smart when he felt Raylan tug his pants past his hips," Ray, I told you," He started to fuss and pull away when Raylan's hand grabbed him. Surprised he stopped talking and froze, then hot breath on his bare skin made him moan softly. He was about to summon the rest of his willpower and make Raylan stop before he hurt himself when he looked down in time to see Raylan swallowing his length," Jesus Raylan!"

"What? Am I doin' it wrong?" Raylan looked up at him," I mean this is my first time and…"

"God no, you're driving me crazy," Tim pushed his hair back," if you're hurting I understand but…"

"Just teasin' you," Raylan licked from base to tip, Tim moaned and his legs threatened to give out. Raylan went back to work and Tim ran one hand through his hair and the other along his jawline. For a first time he was surprisingly good, even if he was half drunk on all the meds Tim had given him earlier.

"I'm…close…" Tim had no idea how Raylan would handle a climax in his current state. He was already trying not to choke him. Raylan nodded slightly and moaned a small 'mmhmm', Tim felt tension and pulled out before finishing, catching most of himself in his hand. He staggered to the bathroom to clean up before getting Raylan and bringing him back to bed, when they lay down he saw a few drops of their previous engagement on Raylan's cheek," You have some ummmm…" he was awkward, like he was the inexperienced one. He remembered the first time Jesse had given him head, but Jesse was experienced and he'd swallowed.

"Love you," Raylan smiled, eyes falling shut.

"Love you too, Ray."

"C'mere," Raylan reached for him and put his leg over Tim's, he curled up favoring his bad side, and lay his head on Tim's chest. Tim slid an arm under Raylan and kissed his forehead," I'm tired," he heard a hint of pain in his voice.

"You hurting?"

"A little."

"I told you you didn't have to—"

"I wanted to," Raylan wrapped his arm over Tim's stomach," It's all I've thought about actually. Never done this before."

"It's okay," he lightly rubbed around Raylan's side," how's that feel?"

"Heavenly," Raylan closed his eyes," please don't stop."

"Go to sleep, lover," Tim smiled into his hair.


	15. Exes

I've changed a few details in the flashbacks but nothing so major it screws things up, enjoy!

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CH 15 Exes

'Lover,' the word sounded foreign to him, Raylan woke from his nap to find Tim still asleep. His chest rising and falling evenly, their bodies still tangled together and his arm still protectively curled around his waist,' In what world do I deserve this?' Raylan thought back to all the times in his marriage to Winona that he thought he had been happy. How she'd called him 'babe' all the time and kissed him when he came in from work. Nights sitting on the porch sharing a glass of wine and a blanket. Then nothing, he'd left for a better job and found out she was screwing the realtor they'd hired to sell their house. She wasn't coming with him to Miami, she'd never planned to. He hadn't seen her once since he'd been rescued, not a single phone call or even a text message. He'd been so in love with her, so passionate and tried everything to make her happy. Roses, chocolate, bath bombs, perfumes, makeup, she got her nails done every other week, her hair done once a month, he rubbed her back and her feet when they were sore even when he'd taken a beating at work and was dead on his feet.

—He pulled into the driveway and sat in his car, knowing he would get his ass chewed for being out all night,' Not like I really have a choice,' he thought miserably. Criminals didn't keep to a nine to five schedule and he was on call twenty-four seven, Winona had assured him she could handle this when they'd gotten serious and maybe she thought she could and it turned out to be harder than she expected.

Whatever the reason, Raylan unlocked his door expecting the ass chewing. He'd had a hard day, he wouldn't tell her that of course, then she'd worry or he hoped she would anyway. He'd had his doubts that she was still in love with him sometimes. Their wedding was beautiful, he'd proposed with a ring he'd picked out himself. No input from family or friends, well he didn't really have a lot of either of those left at this point; but the point being, he'd gone to the jeweler three times to get the right ring. Looked over dozens of them, in fact, before choosing one. He'd even had it engraved with their initials inside the band.

He stepped inside and found her on the couch, sipping from a steaming mug of something,' Please,' he thought,' please just come hold me for awhile, maybe shower with me and then curl in bed and cuddle with me. Make the monsters I faced today go away for awhile.'

"Where have you been?" She demanded.

"Work," he sighed, no getting out of this. No loving hug, no kiss or happy greeting," I'm sorry.:

"You said you'd be home hours ago," the interrogation began.

"I had to work late," he wanted a drink now, he was vaguely aware she was turning him into an alcoholic.

"Raylan, you've worked late every night for the past four days."

"I'm working a case, baby," the only person in his life he'd ever given that per name to.

"Well what's so God damn important?! Is someone dead?"

'Yes,' he thought,' someone is dead and I had to take pictures of her body,' he knew he couldn't tell her that, so instead he replied," I said I was sorry, baby. Please come here and give me a hug."

"I'm suddenly tired, Raylan," she stormed up to their bedroom, he winced as he heard the door slam.

Sighing heavily he went to the guest bathroom for a shower, seemed like he lived in their spare room these days. He stood in the steaming hot water, his shoulders aching from being crunched in a van for hours trying to catch a glimpse of the guy they were chasing. The blood on the woman's face when they'd found yet another body, then the look on Winona's when he'd finally come dragging home hoping to be greeted by a loving, and very alive, wife. It was all too much and the cowboy finally broke down, tears streaming down his face as he let the water wash over him.—

The memory was a painful one, even though he had no feelings left for Winona the things that happened during the years they spent together still haunted him,' Will you do the same thing?' Tim was snoring lightly, Raylan suddenly wanted to move, needed to move, to go anywhere.

He shifted to try and get comfortable again, Tim stroked his arm," Y'kay, Ray?" He mumbled sleepily.

"M'fine darlin'."

"Y'need your next dose," Raylan couldn't figure out if it was a question or a statement. Tim stretched and crawled out of bed, pulling on his boxers on his way to the bathroom.

"Doesn't hurt so bad anymore,' Raylan offered, just wanting Tim to come back to bed.

"The antibiotics keep you from getting sick, Ray," Tim washed his face and Raylan could hear pill bottles rattling," I know you're probably sick of these but you need them," he came back with water.

"You're right, I am sick of these," he drank the water," Has anyone heard from Winona?"

"I think Art called her when we found you, but I'm not sure," Tim took the glass back to the bathroom," You hungry? I'm about to fix lunch."

"She hasn't called?"

"I don't know, I was a little preoccupied. Why?"

"Well, she's carrying my child for one," Raylan sat up slowly, his side burning but getting better," I'm sure I missed hearing about her doctor appointments while I was…" his voice trailed off.

"I checked your cell," Tim was there, helping him into some boxers and sweatpants," shoot her a text."

"I don't want to initiate contact," Raylan admitted," we didn't exactly leave on good terms."

"Still, you deserve to know about your kid."

"This doesn't scare you?" Raylan let himself be helped to the living room.

"What? I mean sure I'm afraid you're gonna fall and I'll be stuck taking care of you for the rest of my life, princess," he chuckled.

"I meant the ex-wife and the kid and…all my shit."

"I'm now a part of 'all your shit', Ray," Tim eased him onto the couch.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," Tim confirmed," you've been there for me through my flashbacks, when my PTSD was at its worst, never backed away, never told me to man up and handle it. I'm here no matter what," he put his hand on Raylan's cheek and kissed him," I don't say 'I love you' to a lot of people."

"I'm just goin' through a lot of shit and you deserve—"

"Raylan," he used his full name for the first time," what *we* deserve is to be happy, I haven't been happy since Jesse died."

"I'm sorry," Tim never talked about Jesse, unless he was screaming his name during a nightmare," I'm still tryin' to figure all this out."

"Well stop it," Tim opened the fridge," this isn't a case you can solve and Winona is your ex-wife not some bad guy you can run down and put away. This is life and we can figure it out together."

"I know and—"

"And you're afraid of being happy," the sentence hung in the air, Raylan froze," yeah, you're afraid that if you're happy and if you let your guard down and let me in I'm just gonna hurt you like she did. I'm not Winona, Ray, just like you're not Justin."

"Justin?"

"A guy I tried seeing after Jesse died."

"You never—"

"I don't like talking about him," Tim sighed," I got sent to counseling after Jesse died, it wasn't exactly a secret that we were together and we felt if we hid our relationship it would be wrong. So in therapy, group therapy, for grief counseling there was Justin. Justin and I became friends, then one night we went out to a bar and he brought me home with him and we hooked up."

"It's not like I haven't hooked up before, I won't judge you for that."

"Things were good for awhile, casual and friendly, then he started hitting me. He found out about my abusive father from sessions in group and when we'd have sex he'd hit me. He'd always say he didn't mean anything by it later, then he wanted to own me, he was military police. Cuffed me in my sleep and…" Tim brought him a bowl of spaghetti and sat down next to him," well we had sex, but let's just say I didn't volunteer."

"Jesus," Raylan put his arm around Tim's shoulders," Darlin' I'm so sorry," he ran his hand over Tim's back,' He raped you, how do you get over that?'

"I've never told anyone about Justin."

"Did you report him?"

"What was I gonna say? I've been seeing this guy casually and last night he cuffed me to the bed and…" Tim put his head in his hands," I'm sorry, Ray, I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"Okay," Raylan pulled him into his arms," we don't have to. I don't ever wanna hurt you."

"Just so y'know this scares me too," Tim didn't put his weight on Raylan, afraid he'd hurt him.

"I agree with what you said earlier," Raylan kissed his temple.

"Hmmm?"

"No thinking, I love you and I want to be happy," he put a finger on Tim's chin and tilted it up to meet his eyes. The tears and the scared look was a familiar one, his heart broke and he swore he'd never hurt him.

"Me too," Tim smiled and pressed his lips to Raylan's.

Tim flipped through channels until he'd found a vampire hunter movie, Raylan's guilty pleasure, he knew he'd never hear the end of it if anyone at the office found out he liked Underworld," You're a really good cook," Raylan leaned back and stretched himself on the couch as Tim rinsed the bowls in the sink.

"Thank you," Tim came back with his med kit," you feelin' up to this?"

"Not yet," Raylan admitted," I'm hurtin' again."

"I can give you something for that. Do you need it?"

"Yeah," Raylan sighed, he'd forgotten how long it took to recover from being shot; and how bad it hurt.

"It's okay," Tim went to the bathroom and came back with pills and another glass of water," it needs cleaned and I know that's painful."

"C'mere," he said after he swallowed the pills. Tim slid behind him and Raylan lay back on him," Thank you."

"I love you, Ray, just trying to take care of you," Tim nuzzled his ear, Raylan purred. His hands roamed Raylan's chest and started lightly rubbing around the bruises," This help?" Raylan nodded and moaned softly," just relax and tell me when those pain meds start to kick in. If you fall asleep I can still manage."

The two stayed on the couch, Tim massaging his injuries until the pain meds made him feel drunk and dizzy. Tim propping him up with a pillow behind his shoulders, cleaning and dressing his side and then replacing the pillow with his body. Raylan going in and out of consciousness as the meds dragged him under.

His cell buzzed, Art texted,' How're you two doing?'

'He's still in a lot of pain, I'm fine though.'

'Sorry to hear he's still hurting.'

'He asked if Winona had called,' Tim texted back.

'She did while he was in Florida, she wants to see him.'

'Give her my address.'

'I figured I'd give the two of you some alone time so he could rest first,' Art knew they both needed some down time.

'Thank you.'

'Is it okay if Rachel and I come too? We'll bring dinner.'

"You're always welcome here, boss.'

Raylan shifted and put his arm above his head to play with Tim's hair," M'tired."

"Wanna go back to bed?" Tim asked.

"Don't wanna move."

"You don't have to," Tim trailed the hair on his chest," take a nap, I'm not going anywhere. Art and Rachel are bringing dinner later on."

"Checkin' on us," Raylan slurred.

"Yeah," he decided to tell him that Winona was coming too when Raylan had woke up from his nap,' No need to stress him out, he needs his energy.'

The meds forced Raylan to sleep, fitful as it might be. Tim woke up to him tossing his head, hands forming fists and flexing," Ray," he kissed his cheek," Ray, it's a dream," he knew the nightmares would come, it was obvious Raylan's PTSD was acting up. He started speaking another language, angry at first, then pleading. His leg twitched, Tim sat up a bit, knowing he could come out of this dream or flashback fighting. Despite the weight loss, Raylan was still strong as hell and his training had literally been beaten into him. He backed off a little, in case Raylan decided to headbutt backwards," Ray, wake up."

"Harry…" he spoke in Italian again, Tim couldn't make anything out. One of the few languages he knew nothing about whatsoever, he could hold his own in a conversation with an Iraqi or pretty much anyone from the Middle East after his tours in Afghanistan.

"Ray, c'mon wake up," the twitching got worse, this was a bad one. He was so immersed in the dream he couldn't pull himself out, he might not even know he was dreaming. He changed tactics, there was no way Raylan was coming out of this peacefully when he woke up. Tim put his arms across Raylan's chest and held his forearms in case his wrists were still tender. The skin had knitted itself back together at this point but the bruising from the cuffs and zip ties looked awful. Deep bruising that was still green and yellow and hadn't quite made it to purple yet, Raylan spoke in Italian again," It's okay, Ray," he pressed the side of his face against Raylan's," Please wake up."

Raylan yelled and jerked to sit up, hand going for his gun. Tim held him fast," Shhhhh," he struggled, panting," Ray, it's me,' he whispered. Raylan groaned and grabbed at his side," Calm down and it'll stop hurting."

"T-Tim?" Raylan's voice shook.

"Right here," Tim kissed his cheek," What do you see? feel?"

"Your—living room," his breath came in short hitches," the couch—your arms," the last one seemed to relax him.

"You speak Italian?" Tim asked once his breathing steadied.

"A little," Raylan answered," Tim, I need—" he paused.

"What, my love?" Tim asked when the silence hung in the air.

"It hurts—" he admitted," Last time—didn't hurt—this bad—"

"Last time it went clean through," Tim ran his fingers over Raylan's hair, pushing it out of his face," I'll get you something to make it stop," Tim knew he hated asking for pain meds, hated needing them. It must have gotten bad again, he gently slid from under the cowboy and replaced the pillow behind his shoulders," Just hang in there, I'll be right back."

"Mm'kay."

Tim grabbed the heavier pain meds and a sedative, when he returned he saw Raylan curled and favoring his side. Teeth gritted against the pain and eyes closed tightly, he didn't hear his footsteps. He jumped when Tim put his hand on his thigh," Easy, Ray," Raylan's eyes had opened wide and were full of fear," Take these."

"What if—"

"Stop it, Ray," Tim put a finger to his lips," you'd never let me 'what if' and I don't plan on letting you."

"I learned Italian while I was chasin' Harry Arno," he went to the memory to escape the flashback, Tim approached slowly," I'm not gonna hurt you," he held his arm out.

"I know," Tim cuddled next to him," but I don't always like being touched after a flashback."

"I need somethin' to ground me," Raylan rubbed his eyes as if he could rub the images out of them.

"I'm here."

"Harry was a bookie who got set up, I went to Italy on my own time to get him after he gave me the slip twice. Nothin' personal but a zip was after him, was gonna follow him to Italy. He took a stripper with him, Joyce, and they were hidin' out only they sucked at it," he nestled into Tim's body, their legs intertwined," the zip tried to kill him while I was there, only I'd found him first and was waitin' on them."

"Harry Arno?" Tim hadn't heard this name before.

"Yeah, fuckin' pain in my ass is what he was," Raylan shook his head," so in Italy, the zip comes for him only I'd sent him and Joyce stateside again. I figured it was better for him to come back here a free man than to get killed by the zip in Italy."

"I mean you could always catch him again once you got back," Tim thought out loud.

"I thought the same thing," Raylan continued," I had stuck around to get the rest of their things and was still there when the zip showed up. They tied me and a friend of Harry's, a fella named Robert G. that he'd hired to do security and cook for him, and tied us up and shoved us in the closet," Raylan squirmed," Similar to what they did when I was…" he swallowed," taken."  
Tim didn't know if he was going to finish the story, he ran his fingers along Raylan's shoulder and down his arm, not pressuring him for a further explanation when he spoke again," The zip asked me where Harry Arno was, I told him the truth that I'd sent him back stateside. He didn't believe me because he asked me again after batterin' me in the head with his gun, I repeated myself and he told me he'd kill Robert G. if I lied to him again. I tried to tell him I wasn't lyin' and he put two bullets in Robert's chest. Man didn't die right away, sat there and choked on his blood for about fifteen minutes before he finally went. I thought he was gonna kill me too, I kept tellin' him I sent Harry stateside. The zip and the two other guys argued in Italian whether or not to kill me, that much I could understand. He decided not to and let me go, showing me he was powerful enough to kill a man in front of me without worrying he'd get caught."

Raylan squirmed and winced, the pain meds barely taken hold," I saw him again in Miami, he was still after Harry and Joyce, and told him he had twenty-four hours to get out of the county. Jimmy Capp had promised Harry's protection and even offered him his old job back if the zip would disappear."

Tim's eyes widened," The zip was Tommy Bucks."

"Yeah, so I didn't have to kill Tommy Bucks," his eyes had glassed over, the sedative was starting to work," he drew on me first, that much was true, but I killed him because I told him I would. I went to that villa with every intention of ending him. I hoped he'd pull first, then at least I'd be justified by law."

"Is that what you were dreaming about?"

"Yeah, but in my dream I didn't win."

"What do you mean?"

"In my dream, he shot me," his hand went to his side again.

"Like you always said, just a dream," he put his hand over Raylan's," Don't hurt yourself."

There was a knock at the door, Raylan jerked towards the sound. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, Tim getting up and grabbing his gun off of the table," Probably Art and Rachel," he kissed Raylan's forehead," Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

Tim was right, Art and Rachel were at the door," Good to see you, boss."

"Good to see you're feeling better," Art smiled as he came inside.

"How's Raylan?" Rachel couldn't see the couch from the doorway.

Raylan felt like a disaster, he knew they only wanted to check on him but he didn't feel like company,' No one needs to see me like this,' he thought sadly,' Hell I really don't even want Tim seeing me like this.'

"Raylan," Art sat in Tim's recliner," how're you feelin'?"

"Fucked up," Raylan replied.

"I figured," Art replied," You look better than you did when I last saw you."

"Ray," Tim brought him a blanket and another pillow," Winona's stopping by."

"Don—care," he held onto Tim's hand for a few seconds as Tim helped him get comfortable," M'tired."

"I know," Tim squeezed gently.

"'Mere," Raylan pulled him towards him," Don—care'f she's—here. Jus want—you," he kissed him.

"Ray, we're not alone," Tim blushed but didn't pull away.

"Don' care—love you."

"Love you too, Ray," Tim kissed his cheek," Let me get everyone a drink."

"Bourbon," Raylan smiled, his eyes closing as he drifted to sleep.

"He seems—" Rachel started.

"Different? Yeah it's the meds he's—" Tim was answering.

"Happy," she interrupted him.

"For the first time since I've known either of you," Art took a sip of his soda.

"He's worried," Tim sat down next to a passed out Raylan.

"Worried?" Rachel asked," About what?"

"Said Tommy's guys aren't gonna stop until he's dead," Tim rubbed the back of his neck," the nightmares are starting, if he didn't before he's got PTSD now. I'm just doing the best I can to take care of him," Raylan stirred and his hand searched for Tim's, Tim took it and Raylan smiled and let the drugs pull him back to sleep.

"How are you doing?" Art asked.

"My shoulder's fine, ankle still hurts a little."

"You still taking pain meds?"

"No sir."

"Tim, I'm not here as your boss," Art crossed his leg over his knee.

"Sorry, I'm doing okay. It's hard keeping up with all of his medicines and I'm tired but he's worth it."

"If you need help," Rachel offered.

"He doesn't want anyone seeing him like this really, he didn't want company tonight but I figured if Winona was coming she'd be less likely to start shit if you two were here."

"Why would she start shit?" Art asked.

"Full disclosure, Art," it felt strange calling him by his name," Raylan and I are seeing each other, officially."

"The paperwork's waiting for you both on your desks when you come back to the office."

"He's not ready."

"Neither are you, Tim," Art replied," you're both still on medical leave. You have to have that boot off of your foot, you both have to be able to run and you need guns back in your hands."

"I can probably go to the range with him in a few days," Tim looked down as Raylan snored lightly.

"He needs to get back in the saddle, so to speak, as soon as possible before he loses his edge," Art said.

"I agree, but the worst thing we can do is make him feel like—" there was a knock at the door.

"That'll be Winona," Art got up," you stay there with Raylan."

"It's good to see you, Art," Winona said as she came inside.

"A pleasure, Winona."

"My God," she looked at Raylan, still asleep on the couch," he looks awful."

'Gee thanks,' Tim stiffened," He looks better than he did when I found him."

"I'm sorry I didn't come to Miami…"

"He was in intensive care for almost a week," Tim replied.

"I didn't think it was that bad, I hate seeing him like this."

'Yeah, me too,' Tim flashed back to when he first found Raylan zip tied to an old futon, hands bluing from lack of blood circulation and wrists bleeding. How pale he'd been, the blood matting his hair and on his face, track marks on his forearms from involuntary injections of God knows what.

"He's gonna be okay," Tim sipped his drink, he'd spiked his with a splash of Raylan's favorite whiskey.

"How long has he been asleep?" She knelt beside the couch and Tim realized he was still holding Raylan's hand.

"The medicines he's on keep him pretty sedated."

"Raylan?" She touched his shoulder, Raylan groaned and his lip twitched," Hey, it's Winona," she traced his hair behind his ear, Tim felt a twinge of irritation," when do you think he'll wake up?" She looked at Art.

"Ask Tim, he hasn't left his side since we found him."

"I had to give him a pretty hard-hitting sedative earlier," Tim said," He might not wake up for awhile."

"I'd have liked to talk to him," a hint of aggravation laced in her concern.

"He was in a lot of pain."

"I'm sure," she forced a smile at Tim," I remember the last time he got shot, he was out of work for a week and a half."

"This one's a little worse," Art backed Tim up a bit," the men that abducted him worked him over pretty good."

Raylan arched his back a little, feeling Tim's uneasiness, and his eyes fluttered a bit. He heard Winona's voice and tried to ask where his lover was but all that came out was a small," Mmmm?"

"Well, I know you need to get back to the office to help put away the men who kidnapped my ex-husband," she was turned to Tim, away from Raylan's face and didn't see him waking up," so I'd like him to come home with me and I'll take care of him from here."

"Nnnnoo," Raylan slurred the word but his eyes were open.

"Raylan," she turned and put her hand on his cheek," I'm sure Deputy Gutterson needs to get back to work, hun."

"M'stayin' here," he replied, stretching his neck. His muscles bunched, Winona's face was fuzzy in front of him and he couldn't see much else," Tim?"

"I'm here," Tim squeezed his hand, Raylan relaxed.

"Hunni, you obviously can't take care of yourself right now."

She was patronizing him," Winona," he put his elbow under him and tried to get his head out of the fog of the sedatives," M'not goin' with you."

"I'm on medical leave," Tim added," Art won't let me back at work until the cast is off of my foot," he didn't know how much Raylan had wanted to tell her or how public they were going with their newly founded relationship.

"Don't you want your own bed at your house?" She asked, all but ignoring Tim," Don't you want to go home?"

"I am."

"What?" She looked confused.

"I am home," he repeated.

"How much did you give him?" She looked at Tim.

"M'not outta my head, Winona," Raylan rolled his eyes, finding his voice and shaking the haze temporarily.

"You're sure acting like it," she put her hand on his chest," I came to see if you were okay, I couldn't make it to Miami."

"Winona, m'fine."

"You don't look like it, you look like you're on drugs and I don't mean some pain meds."

"I was drugged," Raylan shot back, his breathing sped up.

"That's enough, Winona," Tim warned.

"I'm sorry, am I intruding on something? Is he your—"

"Yes," Raylan pushed himself to sit up," Winona, Tim and I—" he tried to catch his breath," we're seein' each other."

"What?" Her mouth opened, she looked at Tim," So…"

"Yeah," Tim steadied Raylan, who was rubbing his forehead.

"I just offered to take care of you," she tucked her hair behind her ear," are you even concerned you have a daughter on the way?"

"Ray," Tim wanted her to leave.

"Y'know m'gonna be there," Raylan's hand went to his side, the color draining from his face as he pushed his limits.

"So how long have you been—?"

"Winona—please—" Raylan applied pressure to the wound, his hand felt slick. She was still talking, his head spun and he couldn't keep up. Tim was calling his name, he was having trouble keeping his eyes open,' Must be the sedative Tim gave me,' a hand on his shoulder, too light and slender to be Tim's, he tried to shrug it off and his side burned. He ground his teeth to keep from yelling,' Not in front of her,' he pleaded with his body to just hold out a little longer, coughing instead of screaming. He felt a cold wave of panic pass over him as he felt something in his side pop. Art had raised his voice, Rachel was talking, the hand on his shoulder left and he was falling. Strong arms wrapped around him, Tim's cologne filled his nose and he clung to him,' God dammit,' his eyes watered,' it still hurts,' his body tensed and he lost consciousness.

"Ray," Tim was cradling him, doing his best to calm him down.

"M'kit—stop—hurting—" he buried his face in Tim's neck.

"We need to get you some help," Tim's cheek was on his.

"Hmmm?" He was vaguely aware he was being carried, then laid in the backseat of a vehicle.

"Ray, Art is driving us to the hospital," Tim tried to stay calm," you're bleeding and I can't get it to stop."

"Shit," he tried to sit up.

"Ray, lay back," Tim was on top of him," I'm keeping pressure on it until we get there."

"How's he doin' back there?" Art asked from the driver's seat.

"He's awake," Tim answered," still heavily sedated," his eyes never left Raylan's.

"Tim?" Raylan couldn't quite figure out what was going on, he knew his side hurt and Tim was pressing on it, hard," Stop, please," he squirmed.

"Ray, you're bleeding," Tim spoke softly," don't fight me, just lay still," he saw Raylan was panicked," Trust me."

"Mmmkay," Raylan lay still.


	16. Hospital

CH 16 Hospital

Raylan could barely stay awake, Tim had carried him into the lobby of the emergency room while Art checked him in. The staff had gotten to them quickly, never a good sign in Tim's opinion since the more critical cases were always attended to first, and they were being moved into an exam room. Tim speaking softly and running his fingers through Raylan's hair to keep him calm, the sedatives bringing him in and out of consciousness. His side had bled onto Tim's sweatpants and the gray fabric was stained, Tim couldn't care less about the pants but was terribly worried something was seriously wrong with the cowboy in his arms. The nurse wanted him to lay down on the stretcher, Tim tried to move and Raylan freaked out and started struggling against her as she tried to start an IV," He'll stay calm if Tim stays put," Art was filling out paperwork.

IV in place, the nurse asked what he'd taken in the past few hours and Tim was rattling off the list of medications he was on and when he'd taken them," Doctor in Miami told me to sedate him if he started having panic attacks, I've made him an appointment with a surgeon for a follow-up already. We were supposed to go tomorrow until he started bleeding."

The door opened and a doctor came in," I'm Dr. Kepnar," he washed his hands," I hear we have a bleeder."

"Yeah, started after he got stressed out."

"This is for nausea," the nurse was pushing something through his IV, Raylan squirmed," I know, sweetheart, that one burns a little," she patted his hand.

"Okay, let's take a look at you," Dr. Kepnar moved the towel Tim had pressed over the wound," yeah it's got a pretty steady bleed, Mr. Givens. So, the nurse is going to give you another sedative, this way I can avoid bringing you to an operating room, and once we get you nice and drunk I'm gonna stop the bleed and stitch you up. Then we can send you home, how does that sound?"

"Good," Raylan's breathing had quickened, he was scared.

Tim kissed his cheek," It's okay, Ray, just gotta patch this up," Raylan nodded.

"I'm sure I already know the answer, but I have to ask anyway, do you want him to stay?" Dr. Kepnar motioned to Tim.

"Yeah," Raylan answered quickly.

"And him?" Dr. Kepnar pointed to Art.

"S'fine," he nodded.

"Okay, I'm going to go get some supplies and I'll be back when you're feeling a little better."

"Thank you," Tim had put pressure back on Raylan's side, he winced but didn't protest.

"Mr. Givens," the nurse came back in, it was strange to Tim to hear someone call him by his last name," I need to check your wristband," she scanned his bracelet," okay, Dr. Kepnar ordered a sedative. Now Mr…." She looked to Tim.

"Just call me Tim."

"Okay, Tim, you won't be able to give him another sedative for twelve hours after this one. He can have muscle relaxers and some pain medicines to keep him comfortable but this sedative and the one we'll give him before he leaves should put him out for awhile. Continue all other medications as directed, mmkay?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Okay," she cleaned the syringe and the port with alcohol," this one's a little scary at first, it's like being at the top of a roller coaster before the plunge," she explained," just so you're prepared for it. You ready, Mr. Givens?"

"Yeah," the nurse nodded and started pushing the drugs through the port. She was right, a rush of adrenaline hit him as his body tried to resist and he twitched.

Tim put his arms around him," Just relax."

Raylan's muscles flexed and Tim felt more blood seep into his pants leg, then his body went slack and he slumped back onto Tim's chest.

Art had finished the paperwork on the clipboard and was tucking Raylan's driver's license back into his wallet," Anything I can do?"

"You're being here," she pointed to Tim," this might be hard for him," she was speaking where Tim couldn't hear, not that he was paying attention to anything but the sedated cowboy in his arms.

Dr. Kepnar came back in," Okay, how're we feelin'?"

"Ray," Tim started to get up so they could lay Raylan down," I'm still here but—" Raylan clumsily grabbed at him and groaned.

"Oh no, Tim is it?" Dr. Kepnar asked, Tim nodded," You don't have to move unless you don't want to be here for this."

"Really?" Tim shifted Raylan back against his chest.

"Really, you're keeping him calm and the less he stresses out the less he bleeds. You're doing great and you're gonna make my job so much easier. Mr. Givens, I'm not making your—partner or boyfriend?"

"Both," Tim answered.

"Well Mr. Givens, I'm not making your boyfriend move," the corner of Raylan's mouth turned up slightly," we're just prepping," Raylan closed his eyes and rested his head on Tim's shoulder.

"So what's the plan?" Tim asked.

"Okay, it looks like he's out, which is what I wanted. The plan is for you to stay right where you are and put your arms around his chest over his arms so he doesn't move," he was pulling out blister packs of tools and putting on gloves, he held up a stick that looked like a match and Tim grimaced," How squeamish are you, Tim?"

"I was a Ranger in Afghanistan," Tim swallowed, he had a good idea about what the doctor's plan was because it was what he'd have done in the field," I also served as a medic on base."

"Then you're familiar with cautery sticks."

"Yes sir."

"I'm not saying we're going to need them, but if we do they're here. I'm going to try and stop the bleed but if I can't I'll use a cautery stick, if we go that route I'll be able to stitch him up and you won't have to worry about the packing anymore."

"All right."

"Let's move the towel. You did good, son," Dr. Kepnar nodded to him.

"He went all the way to Miami with Rachel to go get Raylan," Art added.

"He had a nasty infection I can see," Kepnar had started working on Raylan's side but Tim couldn't see what was going on," I'm going to apply some clotting agent and see if that stops it, he might not feel it," he glanced up at Raylan," he looks like he's under for now. Miami nice this time of year?"

Tim knew he was trying to keep him talking to see how he was holding up," He worked there before he was transferred here," Tim answered.

"I see, Florida not his style?"

"Not really supposed to talk about it," Tim admitted," Sorry Doctor, I know you just want to make sure I'm okay. I'm doing fine."

"Well the bleed's not stopping, it's slowed but it's still steadily dripping," Kepnar turned to the nurse," clean the area, isolate the bleed," he turned and took off his gloves and washed his hands, he got a pack labeled 'sterile' and slipped a fresh set of gloves on," Okay, I'm going to put some silver nitrate on the bleed. It looks like there were some internal sutures and whenever he got stressed out, maybe he sat up too fast or jerked the wrong way, he popped them and now the wound is open and bleeding again," Tim wanted to kick Winona's ass," I'm hoping he'll stay sedated for this, I can't give him anymore because the amount I've given him combined with what you gave him earlier was enough to stop a pissed-off charging elephant and I'm afraid to give more."

"Okay," Tim nodded.

"So she's putting some petroleum jelly around the bleed to isolate it, but if he moves I could get this in places we don't want it. If he feels this he's gonna fight me, men with training like the three of you don't just lay down when something hurts. You," he turned to Art," might need to help hold him still, but I'm hoping he'll stay asleep," he dipped the silver nitrate stick in some saline," Ready?"

Tim took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then nodded. He could tell when the chemicals hit the wound, Raylan squirmed and Tim tightened his grip," Hold still, Ray," Raylan arched and tried getting away from the stick.

"Almost finished," Kepnar was on the second stick," one more spot, Mr. Givens and then we can stitch you up and send you home," Art helped Tim as the second stick hit, Raylan yelled and fought against them even after Kepnar was finished. Tim was talking to him, Art had let go but was making sure he couldn't touch the wound," All done, bleed's stopped," Kepnar smiled," I only had to use two, I thought it would be more like five honestly. Calm him down and stitch him up, I'm sending him home with some topical lidocaine gel fo when you clean this. It'll be really tender for awhile and he needs to take it easy, no more stress. Period. No stretching, light duty is an understatement. I want him on a five pound weight restriction and if he needs to get up and go anywhere, even to the bathroom, he'll need help for a few days. No showering, no water on the area and I want to see him, personally, in a few days to see how it looks. Infection is a high risk at this point."

"Yes sir, I'll take care of him," Tim was caressing his face, Raylan still trembling and occasionally whimpering as the nurse stitched him up.

"I know, you're in good hands Mr. Givens," he squeezed his leg," your boyfriend's taken excellent care of you," Raylan smiled and nodded," I hope you know you're the only reason he's alive, Tim. Take it easy."

"G'night Dr. Kepnar," Art sat back in the chair next to the bed.

"Home pleasss," Raylan slurred.

"Yeah, Ray, I'm taking you home," Tim slid a shirt over Raylan's head," with me," Raylan smiled and passed out.

The nurse cleaned up the suturing kit and handed Art the discharge papers," Normally we would keep him overnight to monitor his condition but I don't feel that's necessary at this point and neither did Dr. Kepnar; however, Mr. Givens is on strict bedrest. Continue other medications as directed and sign here, Mr. Gutterson, and you can take your boyfriend home."

"Thank you," Tim signed his name and gently picked Raylan up.

"I can give him another sedative," Tim shook his head," Okay, let me get this IV out, do you want a wheelchair?"

"No, he's out anyway," Tim looked at Art," go get the car?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you out front."

"Dr. Kepnar ordered a second injection of sedatives, Mr. Givens appears to be very comfortably sedated as of right now so I'm going to set this here," she put a syringe on the table," it was ordered to be given so if it were to not make it to the biohazard waste bin no one would notice it was gone. If I were to administer this medication it would need to go in a major muscle group, like a thigh or the meaty part of a hip."

"Thank you," Tim smiled," I won't tell anyone I promise."

"There's also a script for a pill you can put under his tongue and let dissolve if he needs it. You have a good night and take care of him."

"Let's get you home, Ray," Tim adjusted to take some pressure off of his shoulder, it didn't hurt often anymore but carrying Raylan was definitely a strain. His lover's weight was awkward but despite the walking cast he managed to get them both to the doors to meet Art.

"If I'd have known Winona would start fighting with him I'd have never suggested this," Art apologized," I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," Tim eased Raylan into the backseat, his head in Tim's lap," I know they have to deal with each other with her being pregnant and all, but if she's going to cause that many issues and stress him…" Tim paused," I can't have him hurting himself."

"I agree, I'm going to have a talk with her," Art pulled out of the parking lot.

"I guess he won't have a gun in his hands for awhile," Tim shook his head," Boss, seriously when am I required to come back to work?"

"You're on medical leave until I decide otherwise right now," Art replied," so if anyone asks you play up the fact your ankle's broken and your shoulder better hurt like hell."

"Yes sir."

Art pulled up at Tim's house," Something's off," Tim said as he scanned the yard.


	17. Followed

CH 17 Followed

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, my porch light goes off on its own, it has a sensor," he slid Raylan's head onto the seat and grabbed his backup from the console," You got your gun on you?"

"Always," Art patted his hip," You stay with him, I'll go take a look around."

Art got out of the car, locking the door but leaving it running. Tim crawled into the driver's seat, he watched Art walk the perimeter of the yard with his gun drawn. He disappeared behind Tim's house, Tim almost held his breath. He rolled the windows down a bit as he waited for Art to return or to hear signs of a conflict. Raylan shifted and moaned in the backseat, searching for him," I'm right here, Ray," Tim heard the edge in his own voice.

"S'wrong?"

"Nothing, everything's fine," Tim lied," you just lay still and I'll come get you in a minute," he heard Raylan trying to get up," Ray, lay down you just had a procedure done."

"Mmmkay," Raylan lay back across the seats, a few minutes passed and he twitched again," Tim?"

"I'm here, Ray," Tim was still waiting on Art to come back. He scanned the yard over and over again, then he saw him. A large man, too big to be Art was approaching the car. Tim opened the door and got out," Deputy U.S. Marshal! Hands where I can see them!" He raised his gun and pointed it at the man,"

Art you okay?" No answer, shit. Tim heard Raylan moving in the car,' Shit Ray, stay down.'

"Where is he?" The man had a thick accent and he chewed his words.

"Hands where I can see them," Tim repeated, the man kept coming," Sir, I will shoot you."

"No you won't," the man laughed," you should be worried about the man behind you, the one taking the cowboy out of the car."

"Ray?" Tim knew better than to turn around, if this man had a gun he'd be dead and so would Raylan.

"Tim?" Raylan answered him weakly.

"You okay in there, Ray?"

"Yeah," Tim heard him trying to sit up again," What'sshhh…"

"Raylan," Tim barked at him," stay down, I'm trying to keep you safe. You let me know if someone's in the car with you, I'm outside with my gun on this asshole in front of me. kay?"

"'M'kay," he heard the fear in Raylan's voice.

"I'd drop your gun, Deputy," another man with a thick accent," your friend's life depends on it."

"Ray, how you doin' back there?"

"It's me he's talking about," Art's voice behind him, Tim froze.

"We're not leaving without the cowboy, you don't have to die too," the man in front of Tim said.

"Oh you're leaving," Tim growled," This is my house, so I'm giving you the courtesy of a warning. Get the fuck off of my lawn."

"Give us the cowboy."

"Go to hell."

"Have it your way," the man with the gun on Art tried to open the door," it's locked."

"Keys?" The man in front of Tim asked.

"Fuck you."

"He will kill you and your friend," the man took a step towards Tim.

"Tim, don't listen to…" Tim heard the man hit Art with the gun and whirled, he fired a shot into the man's chest. He turned again to face the man in front of him and fell backwards against the car. The man now had a gun on him. Art had taken a chance, he knew if he started talking the man with the gun would do one of two things. Either shoot him or hit him, they'd gotten lucky.

"Drop it," the man said," I see your foot, you won't win."

Raylan lay flat on the seat, sweat pouring down his face. He searched the floorboard and found Tim's backup, he grabbed it and took it out of the holster,' I could hit Tim,' the thought was maddening,' I'm too sedated,' he listened as Tim shouted at the men, aware that one of them was now dead but Tim had fallen against the door by his feet,' Shit,' he wondered if Tim was okay. He could barely see Tim's outline, his left hand groping the window to steady him.

The man's accent was undeniably Italian,' They've sent a zip after me,' he rolled to his side,' If I don't shoot him he's gonna kill Tim.'  
Tim had barely gotten his balance, he caught himself on the driver's side mirror,' Shit,' he thought,' if they kill me they'll get Ray,' his gun was pointed away from the man now. He watched almost in slow motion as the man took aim,' I'm dead.'

Raylan took a chance, he grabbed the bottom of a seatbelt and pulled himself upright. He could barely see the outline of the man aiming at Tim, his vision blurred from the sedatives and he felt like he was going to drop the gun. His hand shook but he breathed and squeezed the trigger, the sound was deafening in the cab of the car. The kick of the gun threw him onto the seat and he wondered for a second what kind of gun Tim used for a backup that was that powerful. Pain exploded in his side and behind his eyes and he whited out.

Tim tried to redirect his aim back on the man in front of him when the glass exploded out of the back window. Tim figured Art had shot through the car and instantly wondered if Raylan was okay, the man crumpled and Tim fired another shot in his chest to be sure he stayed down. His ears rang and he fumbled in his pocket for the keys, clicking the unlock button and tearing the door open. Raylan was laying on the backseat, legs awkwardly stacked behind the driver's seat, unconscious. The other door opened and Art was turning on the light in the cab and yelling something that Tim couldn't comprehend. He grabbed Raylan's shirt and jerked it up to his chest, frantically checking his wound,' No blood,' he knew there was gunpowder on his hands and tried not to touch more than he had to,' please be okay, please don't be hurt more,' he searched him for blood and when he didn't find any he gathered him in his arms.

When the ringing in his ears subsided, he heard Art," Is he okay?"

"Yeah, you didn't hit him."

"I didn't shoot, I thought you did," Art looked surprised.

Tim pulled a flashlight out of his center console and shined it on Raylan," He got my backup."

"You mean to tell me that Raylan, in his barely conscious and sedated state, picked up your backup gun and sat up, then shot through the glass and hit the man in front of you?" Art rubbed his forehead in disbelief.

"He's a helluva shot," Tim picked Raylan up and carried him into the house," I'm gonna get a better look at him, call it in and tell them to send an ambulance just in case."

"Okay," Art pulled out his cell.

Raylan felt himself being moved, laid down somewhere, lights on over his head. He panicked,' Did they get Tim?' He tried to sit up again, a hand firmly on his chest pushed him down and someone was talking to him. His hearing was starting to come back but he couldn't quite make out who was speaking or what they were saying. He grabbed the wrist and twisted it, trying to roll whoever it was beneath him.

"Ray, it's me!" Tim straddled his hips," Ray, c'mon now you're gonna hurt yourself."

"Tim?" Raylan opened his eyes, his hearing finally good enough to make out what Tim was saying," You hit?" He tried to sit up.

"No, no I'm not hit, lay still," Tim was looking him over.

"Y'need t'get outta here," Raylan said.

"I don't see any—"

"Tim, dammit—they're not gonna stop," his breath coming in shorts gasps.

"Your head's bleeding," Tim was peeling the tape away.

"Tim you—need to—get away—"

"Ray," Tim put gauze over the wound to control the bleeding.

"They want me—not you."

"I'm not leaving you," Tim locked eyes with him.

"You almost—died."

"So did you, Ray," Tim said flatly," I'm not leaving you and that's final. I took you seriously when you said they'd send people after you, they came, we killed them. You shouldn't have strained yourself, you could have ripped the stitches in your side and set yourself back, Ray."

"You were—distracted."

"Because I was worried you'd sit up and get yourself killed," Tim put his hand on the side of Raylan's face," you have to listen to me when I'm trying to protect you. Please Ray, I can't worry about what you're gonna do when it could get us killed."

"There'll be more," Raylan was having trouble getting his breathing under control, memories flashed and thoughts of Tim getting hurt. He got tunnel vision and his chest tightened, he couldn't breathe. Panic rose in his throat and he grabbed Tim's arms.

Tim took the pressure off of his head and got off of him," Ray, calm down I'm okay," he offered him his hand. Art came inside, the added stimulation pushed Raylan over the edge. Tim took him into his arms and held him, shaking and almost in tears.

"Jesus, is he hurt?" Art tossed his bag on the couch.

"No, he's having a panic attack," Tim pulled the syringe the nurse had conveniently forgotten to dispose of out of his sock," Ray, I can make it stop just hold still. Trust me," Raylan was trying to pull himself together, Tim uncapped the needle with his teeth and buried it into Raylan's thigh. In a few seconds Raylan had stopped shaking and was breathing easier, his body resting on Tim limply and his eyes closed," He said they'd come," Tim told Art," told me they won't stop until he's dead."

"Who?"

"Tommy Bucks's guys, the accent was unmistakable," Tim smoothed Raylan's hair and wiped blood off of his neck with a towel Art handed him.

"We're here to check on you guys," two paramedics came in with bags.

"I think he's okay, he had a panic attack and I gave him his meds and he's asleep," Tim held Raylan close to him.

"There's blood on your pants, sir."

"That's his from earlier," Tim glanced down, tired of seeing his lover's blood.

"I'd like to check you both out anyway, for my peace of mind."

"That's fine," Tim nodded.

Raylan woke up slowly, his body felt like it was made of lead. He groaned, head hurting," Ray," Tim's voice, close to his ear. He nuzzled himself towards the sound and the tickle of warm breath on his skin," Mornin'."

"Mornin'," he stretched his legs, finding them tangled in Tim's.

"You need your meds and some breakfast," Tim yawned and stretched.

"In a minute," Raylan slid his arm around Tim's waist.

"You'll start hurting," Tim protested but didn't pull away from him.

"M'fine," Raylan pulled and Tim was on top of him, knee between his thighs bracing on his right arm. He arched up and kissed him, as the kiss deepened he ran his fingers up the back of Tim's neck and into his hair, tugging lightly.

"Ray," Tim growled and Raylan felt his hips arch into him, he ground himself against Tim's thigh and nipped his bottom lip," Ray you're on bedrest."

"I'm in bed."

"You're tempting me," Tim was panting," I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," Raylan pulled him into another kiss, his hand running down Tim's stomach.

"Please, Ray," he moaned," I can't resist forever."

"I'm countin' on that," he flashed a devilish grin.

"At least eat and take your meds first then," Tim pulled away from him.

"Deal, but then you come back to bed with me."

"You're not supposed to be out of bed anyway," Tim smiled.

Raylan looked down at the bandage covering his side,' How bad is it?' He wondered, although he didn't dare take the dressing off himself. Tim would flip out, he rolled his eyes at the thought. He smelled breakfast coming from the kitchen and realized he was very hungry, he'd gotten used to Tim cooking for him and rather liked it,' He cooks better than Winona ever did,' he admitted Tim did a lot of things better than Winona and his mind flashed back to Tim's mouth wrapped around him. He felt a familiar twitch and gingerly got up to go to the bathroom, he brushed his teeth when he was through. After all, kissing someone with morning breath couldn't be fun.

Tim came back with a tray that had both of their plates on it," Ray, what are you doing?"

"Had to use the john and brushed my teeth, I'm being good and movin' slow."

Tim rolled his eyes," Fine, let's eat and see if we can find something on tv that's interesting," he saw the look on Raylan's face and added," Fine we won't watch The Price is Right."

"If it means you'll finish what we started, me and dead owls don't give a hoot what's on," there was that grin again, the one that made Tim's knees weak and his balls ache.

"Take your meds," he sat down next to Raylan on the bed. Raylan noticed Tim had slept with his gun on the bedside table, an extra magazine fully loaded and close by.

They watched classic movies while they ate, Tim being a fan of the old Kung Fu movies and Raylan more a western and vampire enthusiast, and were soon wrapped in each other's arms, the tray abandoned on the floor," Can we finish what we started now?" Raylan had a one track mind.

"Only thing you're gettin' is a blowjob," Tim got on all fours atop him and kissed a line from his ear to his collarbone and paused there, Raylan moaned as Tim nipped him," think you can deal with that?"

"I'll manage somehow," Raylan stretched out and leaned his head back on the pillow, closing his eyes. Tim's mouth claimed his unexpectedly, he leaned into the kiss and moaned softly. Tim's fingertips tickling their way down his chest and stomach until they reached his waistband, building a steady and intense heat until finally taking ahold of him. He inhaled sharply and heard Tim ask him if he was okay," Y-yes," he stammered," Don' stop..."

Tim smiled, Raylan had fallen asleep soon after he'd finished. He watched his chest rise and fall slowly as he slept peacefully for the first time since he'd been abducted. No nightmares, no flashbacks, no curling into himself or Tim in agony when the pain meds lapsed. For once, Raylan was comfortable. He almost didn't want to wake him for his dose of Suboxone, but knew if he didn't there'd be hell to pay," Ray," he purred in his lover's ear," take this and then you can go back to sleep," he brushed his lips lightly, Raylan smiled and opened his mouth. He swallowed the Suboxone and a muscle relaxer and fell gently back to sleep, Tim let himself drift in and out of sleep but it was fitful,' They're not gonna stop until I'm dead,' Raylan's words echoed in his head.

'I wanna keep you safe,' he thought,' but how?' He rolled over and got out of bed quietly, Raylan still on enough sedatives to stop a deer in rut,' Which is kinda how he's been acting,' Tim thought, amused. The soft moans that escaped Raylan's lips when he hit his sweet spots made him hard, he went to the bathroom to take care of himself since the cowboy was too incapacitated to properly do it for him. Not for lack of trying of course,' If he keeps tempting me like this he's gonna walk with a limp for at least a week,' Tim smiled to himself, Raylan had always had a bit of a swagger to his step and he didn't know if anyone at the office would notice if that swagger was turned up a notch. Then he thought of going back to the office,' Ray hasn't mentioned work,' odd, for Raylan to not be absolutely obsessed over something to do with the office, hell it was why his marriage fell apart is because Winona probably felt like he was already married. The best LEO's were like that and no doubt Raylan was one of the best. He decided he'd text Art when he took care of the pressing need in his sweatpants.

He heard Raylan come into the bathroom while he was in the shower, he resisted the urge to fling the shower door open and clear the room," Ray?"

"Just me," Raylan brushed his teeth and leaned against the counter," do you want company?"

"You have a doctor appointment in an hour."

"That'll give us about half an hour?"

Tim now realized why Raylan was always ready to go,' He's using sex to deal with the trauma,' not that Tim minded really, Raylan was pretty good at it even for a rookie with men," Ray, you're gonna have to deal with what happened sooner or later," he stepped out of the shower.

"I know," Raylan looked at him and licked his lips in the way that made every woman's panties fall around her ankles," I realize that, but I'm having too much fun with you and you're the first person I've ever been with that hasn't pressured me to be someone I'm not."

"I don't wanna change you, Ray, but I also don't want you emotionally fucked up," he paused," well more than either of us is already."

"Yeah, us and our daddy issues," Raylan mused.

"Trust me," Tim dried off and pulled him into an embrace," I'm enjoying the attention, but I'm here for you when your clothes are on too."

The previous night came rushing back to him, Raylan suddenly couldn't breathe," Tim—they could've—"

"Ray, we're okay," he was silently wondering when the sedatives would wear off enough for Raylan to comprehend what had happened the night before," Shhhh," he took him into his arms," You're safe," he kissed his forehead.

"They'll try—again," he was almost panicked.

"I won't let them hurt you again," Tim held him close.

"Tim—," Raylan had handfuls of the blankets around them, clinging like a frightened child after a bad dream.

"Ray," Tim paused, he felt something wet against his side and thought for a moment that Raylan had popped a stitch and was bleeding again. Then he turned Raylan's body and saw his side was fine, Raylan's shoulders shook,' Oh my God,' Tim's heart broke,' he's crying,' silent tears dotted his chest and side," Ray, you have to get better. What do I do so they won't find you?" He turned Raylan's face up so he could look at him.

"It doesn't matter where we go," Raylan sniffed and wiped his eyes," they're gonna find me, they don't have to find you."

"I should kick your ass for that," Tim felt a twinge of anger and suppressed it," I love you, stupid."

"I don't wanna be the reason y'get killed," Raylan was serious.

"Then let's leave and go somewhere they can't find us until you're well enough to handle them. Then I'll follow you to Miami, guns blazin', and take 'em out."

"I dunno who put the hit out," Raylan sat up and tried composing himself.

"So we find out," Tim rubbed his back.

"I almost ended up *back* in the hospital after firing one round out of your backup gun," Raylan pushed his hair out of his eyes," there's no way I can. . .and you're in a walking cast for God's sake."

"I get this thing off next week."

"We could be dead next week."

"Art can call in for some backup and have them post outside my house."

"I dunno," Raylan rubbed his face with his hands, his forehead throbbed slightly beneath the neat bandages Tim had taped into place.

"You have a doctor appointment we need to get you to," Tim was rubbing the tension out of his neck," Can we figure things out after you've been seen?"

"I guess," Raylan knew there was no sense arguing with Tim on this one, he was going to the doctor if Tim had to drag him or sedate him and then drag him.  
Driving was awkward with a boot on his foot, thankfully it was his left foot, but he still felt uneasy. Tim had put his sidearm on and packed extra magazines on his belt and in his pocket, his backup was the same caliber and he'd strapped it to his right ankle just in case. Not his preferred method of carrying a backup but the Sig was light, another thanks to Raylan for helping him choose his firearms. Tim knew rifles better than anyone, but pistols were Raylan's thing. Raylan preferred a Beretta but liked Sig Sauer and Glock was okay, he'd helped Tim choose a micro 9mm Sig Sauer P365 for his smallest gun. Tim had been skeptical, but once he'd put some rounds down the range Raylan had seen the grin on his face and knew he'd made a good decision.

His nerves were shot as he went into the doctor's office, he kept looking around expecting more of Tommy's thugs to pop out from behind a corner. This was after one of the anxiety meds and muscle relaxers doubled up with the Suboxone, which probably made his anxiety worse Tim suspected but it was better than withdrawals that could put him back in a hospital bed. He shuddered at the memory of seeing Raylan, unconscious with tubes and wires and various monitors with doctors struggling to keep him alive. He put his hand in Raylan's for comfort, his or Raylan's he wasn't sure, they'd never held hands in public before but it felt surprisingly natural.

"Mr. Givens, you look like you're being well cared for," the doctor looked over his chart as he spoke, Tim sitting in one of the chairs across from them but facing the door.

"I'd be dead if it weren't for him," Raylan smiled and it was genuine, Tim couldn't help but smile back.

"I see that, continue the antibiotics, infection looks like it's clearing up and your fever hasn't returned."

"He's almost out of Suboxone," Tim said flatly, not really wanting to address the elephant in their relationship but feeling Raylan's health was more important than his pride.

"I'm not in the habit of prescribing *those* types of drugs," the way he said it made Tim's skin crawl," you'll have to go to a controlled substance clinic for that.'

"I'm a Deputy U.S. Marshal," Raylan blanched.

'Great,' Tim thought,' I have enough trouble gettin' him to take that shit and now you're gonna gimme more fuckin' problems.'

"Addiction is a terrible thing, Mr. Givens," the doctor sounded cold and clinical now,' I wish you the best of luck," he spun on his heel and walked out of the room.

"Wait," Tim stood and put a hand on the doctor's shoulder," you really expect him to go to a fuckin' rehab clinic with the junkies?!"

"I do not prescribe Suboxone here, kindly let me go."

"Tim," Raylan waved for Tim to let him go, Tim was reluctant and Raylan could see in his eyes how badly he wanted to beat the shit outta that doctor. Once he was out of the room Raylan said," I've gotta just deal with the withdrawals."

"I'll call Art, maybe..."

"Tim," Raylan was firm," there's nothing Art can do and we both know it. I'm not goin' to that damn clinic."

"I'll do what I can to help you," Tim put his arm around Raylan's shoulders.

"I know," he leaned his head on Tim's shoulder.

Back at Tim's house, Raylan was grabbing clothes to go take a shower. For once he wasn't thinking about Tim joining him, he grabbed his cell and scrolled through his messages. Some from the office, coworkers asking when he'd be back and how he was doing and then a few from Boyd,' Why is he checkin' on me?' He figured it was Ava and ignored the texts, answering a few of the ones from his coworkers briefly and stepping into the shower.

"I'm cooking spaghetti," Tim called through the door," you feelin' all right?"

"Stings a little," he admitted.

"If you need help lemme know," Tim trying not to be overbearing.

"Thanks," Raylan knew he was worried about him, hell Raylan was worried too. He wondered how long it would take the Suboxone to get outta his system and what the withdrawals would be like, he'd seen junkies when they needed their fix and it was never pretty. Faces picked to pieces, arms scratched up, hair a mess, both men and women whoring themselves for another hit, he shuddered and stepped into the hot stream of water. Wincing at first, his side burning as the bandage got wet and water hit the wound,' Probably shouldn't be getting it wet yet,' but hindsight was 20/20. He washed himself quickly, wrapping a towel around his waist as he got out. He got the razor he'd been using and started shaving the stubble that appeared out of place from his usually well-groomed face. He knew he'd need help changing the bandages, using his last bit of strength to try and keep up his appearance so he wouldn't feel so damned useless.

Tim knocked on the door," Ray, dinner's ready."

"C'mon in," Raylan knew he better get it over with, changing the dressings usually hurt a bit but Tim's hands were gentle," need to re-bandage my side," his ribs at a dull ache,' Pain meds wearin' off, or I'm gettin' used to 'em,' he thought miserably.

"Easier if you're layin' down," Tim grabbed the med kit.

Raylan dried his hair as best he could and lay back on the bed, towel beneath his head so he wouldn't soak the sheets. His hair had gotten a little longer, Tim had mentioned he thought it looked good so he decided to keep it for awhile before getting it cut. Tim's hands were gentle as always, peeling the old bandages off and cleaning him up before securing new ones in place, taping in different spots so his skin wouldn't be rubbed raw by the tape," Tim," he started, then stopped, his stomach turned a flip and he felt sick.

"You okay, Ray?" Tim barely got out of the way as Raylan doubled over and his stomach heaved,' Damn, it's starting already,' Tim knew withdrawals made you sick, combined with the pain pills he was backing off of he silently cursed the doctor. He hadn't told Raylan the doctor had also denied him more of the heavy-hitting pain meds and lowered the dosages of the sedatives and anxiety meds too. He'd never been a fan of doctors but this one made him wish they'd stayed in Miami where the doctors knew Raylan and were doing everything they could to keep him comfortable. Harlan and Lexington's drug addicts were getting too plentiful and the doctors were being pressured to stop writing narcotics to try and combat the incoming junkies.

"P-peachy," even in pain he was a smart ass.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Tim got him some mouthwash, Raylan rinsed and spit in the cup before sinking onto the pillows behind him.

"M'sorry 'bout th'floor," he mumbled.

"I don't give a damn about the floor, Ray if you don't go to the clinic and get the Suboxone you're gonna get sicker," Tim's voice was laced with an undertone of aggravation.

"No," Raylan said flatly.

"Please," Tim's eyes pleaded.

Raylan looked away, he couldn't meet Tim's eyes. Not like that, not with that look in them," Tim, don' ask me t'go there," his tone also pleading.

"I'm sorry, Ray," Tim knew he wasn't winning this one," I just don't want to see you sick again."

"I know," Raylan put his head in his hands," Tim, how am I supposed to face actual criminals if I'm going to the clinic to get the same drugs as them?"

"Okay," Tim admitted defeat," I won't try to force you," he had wiped the vomit off the floor where Raylan had gotten sick, he threw the towel in the clothes hamper and went to Raylan's side," I'll do what I can to help you through this."


	18. Withdrawals

This chapter comes with a warning of strong and explicit sexual content

* * *

CH 18 Withdrawals

Tim felt helpless, he could only watch as Raylan's demeanor deteriorated along with his mood. While on the couch, he would alternate from sweating and overheated to shaking and chilled. He was forcing himself to eat and take sips of water," I can get you some Pedialyte to keep you hydrated," Tim put a cool cloth on the back of his neck.

"Don' want you out alone," Raylan leaned back into his touch.

"I'll ask Art to pick some up on his way over then," he didn't want to argue right now," You hurting again?"

"Not from gettin' shot so much," he admitted," but I'd fuckin' kill for an Oxy right now," he hung his head, embarrassed.

"We could always…"

"If you say the word 'clinic' I'm gonna lose my shit, Tim."

"Okay," Tim put his arm around Raylan's shoulders," I gotcha."

The hours crawled by, Raylan struggling to keep himself together and holding out on pain meds. Tim knew better than to try and get him to take anything, but dammit this was getting hard to watch. Sweat beaded on his hairline, Tim tried to keep him cool and wiped him down with a wash cloth ever so often. He'd snapped at Tim once, telling him he wasn't a child and felt awful for it afterwards. The look in his eyes was haunting and Tim had hugged him and told him it was okay. He wished Raylan could just sleep through all of this,' Hasn't he been through enough?'

"I'm so tired," Raylan breathed, he'd been sitting on the couch but hadn't even made it through the first Blade movie.

"Let's get you to bed then."

"We need to leave—"

"Ray, we have details outside my house."

"What?"

"Yeah, after I gave my statement and the report got filed there's been at least two cars with feds in them outside my house twenty-four seven," he pulled back a curtain and Raylan saw a black SUV parked on the side of the road in front of the house.

"They'll find a way," Raylan was staggering, even though Tim was leading him and practically carrying him to the bedroom, his body flushed and feverish.  
Raylan collapsed onto the bed, Tim thought he'd passed out at first. He inched to his pillow and rolled onto his good side," Ray, when you're better…"

"Tim," the look in his eyes surprised him as he said his name, Raylan completely lucid," we could be dead by then."

Tim walked through the house checking all the locks, it was the first time Raylan was awake enough to notice. He was nothing if not methodical, making sure the house was secured and they were as safe as they could get. He brushed his teeth and slid into bed next to Raylan," Ray," he smiled as he said his name," d'you need any meds before I settle in?"

"No," Raylan was shivering slightly.

"Wake me up if y'need me, mmkay?" Tim slid an arm around him and kissed him, a hint of mint on his breath from Tim's toothpaste.

"Gonna be a bad night," Raylan snuggled into him.

"I'm right here," Tim kissed his forehead.

Raylan's body twitched, sweat dampened the pillow and Tim went to get a cool rag and a bucket of some sort before he woke up. Raylan's teeth gritted against the pain, muscles spasming and sweat beading on his forehead he curled into Tim. His shoulders shook and his stomach lurched, Tim held the bucket under his head as he threw up. He wiped his mouth and face and lay him back onto his pillow," Th-thankssss," Raylan slurred, he scratched at his arm where the IV had been and Tim tried moving his hand.

"Ray, that won't help," he felt a firm grip, good sign.

The night passed fitfully, Raylan's stomach heaving every half hour or so causing him to shiver violently. Sweat poured down the sides of his face and soaked the pillow beneath his head, his body burning as fever raged through him. Day broke and they weren't sure who was more exhausted, Raylan's chest and side burning from dry heaving. He lay, panting, against Tim's chest. Tim gathered the cowboy in his arms and stroked his hair," Y'wanna take a shower?"

"I need one," the response was weak.

"It might make you feel better."

"T-tired," Raylan slumped against him.

"It's okay," Tim kissed his forehead," just rest," Raylan nodded and closed his eyes, too exhausted to care that he was sticky with sweat and probably smelled like he'd gone for one of Tim's usual morning runs. Tim kind of missed his morning solitude, each morning if he didn't get called into work before his scheduled shift he would put on his Army hoodie and sweatpants and go for a run. He switched up scenery on occasion, running different paths around the neighborhood, usually he brought a micro pistol with him. He carried a Sig Sauer P365 for his backup and his sub-compact, it was the only firearm he owned that he could shove down the back of his sweats and it wouldn't bob up and down as he ran.

Raylan dozed on his chest for half an hour before he woke up, stomach heaving again. Once it was over, he rolled over and clutched his side. Tim running his fingers down his back was comforting, his head pounding," Ray, I'm getting you something for the pain," he slid out of bed, Raylan didn't protest as he came back with a palmful of pills. He even let Tim help him sit up, swallowed the pills with some water and buried himself back into his pillow. Tim set the glass on the nightstand," Do you want breakfast?" Raylan shook his head," Ray, you need to eat," Tim was starting to worry.

"Gonna—get—sick—" Raylan panted, his face contorted from the pain.

"C'mon," Tim kissed his shoulder," y'gotta eat something or you're gonna get really sick," Raylan grunted," Please Ray," Tim saw his shoulders relax, he knew he'd won. He pulled the blankets up on his shoulders and got up," I'll be right back, pancakes?" Raylan perked up a little and nodded, Tim smiled.

Raylan rolled onto his back as Tim left, he grabbed his phone. Boyd had texted him,' Withdrawals are a bitch, I can help you if you want,' he rubbed his eyes. Boyd must've heard he'd been drugged, but how? He realized Boyd had seen so many people on drugs that recognizing them was easy for him at this point.

'No,' he texted back,' besides, there's feds everywhere.'

'Raylan you underestimate me,' Boyd replied.

'Are you seriously offering me drugs?'

'I'm offended Raylan, I don't do drugs. I was going to offer you some bath salts for you and your 'lover' to soak in.'

'Great,' Raylan put his phone back on the nightstand,' he knows about me and Tim too,' not that he cared who knew about them.

Tim took his own handful of antibiotics and steroids, he'd missed a dose and he felt it. His shoulder was still sore, but the walking cast would be off for good in a few days if he was careful and rested like he was supposed to. Maybe he could go for a run again soon, visions of Raylan curled up in agony flashed in his mind's eye and he shook his head,' No, I can't leave him,' he thought. He checked his phone, Art and Rachel had texted him asking about how they were doing,' I'm eventually gonna have to go back to work,' he thought dejectedly,' but I don't wanna leave you…' he texted Art and Rachel.

'Withdrawals are bad, he's really sick.'

Rachel replied,' Do you need me to bring you anything?'

'I need to go grocery shopping, we're running out of food here.'

'I can come stay with Raylan while you go,' Rachel was always there to help.

'If Art will let you?'

'That's fine,' Art jumped in, group texts were usually annoying but this one actually made things easier.

'He usually sleeps after he takes his meds, they're due around 9,' Tim replied.

'I'll be there in a few minutes then.'

'Thanks Rach.'

Tim plated scrambled eggs and bacon with a side of toast and padded back to the bedroom, looked like Raylan hadn't moved much," Ray," he sat down," y'need to eat something."

"Uhh-uh," Raylan buried his face in the pillows.

"Please," Raylan heard the worry in Tim's voice, he turned to look at him and sighed. He grabbed a slice of bacon and nibbled on the end of it," I'm trying to take care of you," Raylan nodded miserably," Rachel is coming over in a few minutes, I'm goin' to the store 'cause we're runnin' out of food."

"I don' need a babysitter," Raylan's lip curled a little.

"Didn't say you did," Tim said behind a mouthful of eggs," but I'm also worried about your safety."

"My…" Raylan rolled his eyes," Tim, I'll be okay."

"Rachel is just coming to…"

"Tim, I don't need—" he realized his tone and stopped," 'M sorry," he sighed.

"I'm not takin' it personal," Tim sat on the edge of the bed as he put on his shoes," you gonna be okay?"

Raylan opened his mouth to speak and covered it with his hand, he grabbed the bucket by the bed. His eyes watered, he felt like he couldn't breathe, breakfast wasn't as good coming up as it had been going down. Tim steadied him," M'fine," Raylan lied.

"Ray, if you—" a knock at the door.

"Rachel," Raylan sat up, his feet on the floor. He rubbed his head, the stitches in his head itching as they healed, he could hear Tim talking to Rachel.

Footsteps down the hallway then," I'll be back in a little while, anything you wanna eat, Ray?"

Raylan groaned, he stood up and staggered to the bathroom. He splashed water on his face and ran his toothbrush through his mouth to get the taste out, when he finished he had expected Tim to have left but he found his lover sitting on the bed waiting. He pulled Raylan into an embrace," I know you feel awful," he breathed into Raylan's neck," please take your meds and get some rest while I'm gone."

"'Mmmkay," Raylan nuzzled against his face," please, be careful," he tilted Tim's chin and kissed him lightly.

"I will," Tim smiled," I love you."

"Love you too," Raylan smiled, Tim knew he was only perking up to make him feel better while he was gone but he'd take it anyway. He helped Raylan to the couch, Raylan grabbing his phone off the nightstand and Tim bringing the bucket to the bathroom to clean it before setting it by his feet.

"How're you feeling?" Rachel smiled at him from the lounge chair.

"Like hammered shit," Raylan smirked.

"Y'look good for hammered shit."

"Make sure he behaves," Tim teased as he closed the door behind him.

Raylan sprawled on the couch, miserable. Searing pain behind his eyes, his stomach twisting in knots, side burning, his muscles twitching and spasming despite the meds which he was sure he had lost earlier when he'd thrown up. His phone vibrated about half an hour later, thinking it was Tim he checked it,' There's a package for you on the window sill of your bathroom,' Boyd's number,' You're welcome,' he looked around the room, half expecting to see Boyd peeking in through a window. His stomach rolled and he got up, stumbling down the hall.

"Raylan," Rachel was behind him, sliding under his arm on his good side and steadying him on his way to the back," where are you going?"

"Bathroom," it came out harsher than he meant it.

"Tim will string me up if I let you fall and get hurt worse," she guided him to the bathroom door," You got it from here?"

"Yeah," he straightened and closed the door behind him, locking it. He went to the small window above the toilet immediately, easing it open. His fingers searched the sill,' This is stupid,' he thought,' Boyd's probably bluffing, there's no way he could get…' his fingers found a small plastic bag. He grabbed it and inspected it, there was a smiley face drawn on it in permanent marker. Inside were five pills, he recognized them,' How the hell did he—' he closed the window and sat on the toilet, fingering the baggie. He gagged, feeling bile rise in his throat again. He fell forward onto his hands and knees and heaved, nothing left in his body to come up except stomach acid.

"Raylan?" Rachel called from outside the door.

He coughed," M'okay," he lifted the toilet lid and gripped the seat until his knuckles turned white. Tim kept his house a ridiculous degree of spotless so he was sure he could probably eat off of that seat, he tried to breathe and ride it out as wave after wave hit him. When it was finally over, he collapsed onto the floor shaking. He looked at the baggie clutched in his hand, he grit his teeth at the pain. He was beyond exhausted,' I just want it to stop hurting,' ever since they'd backed off of the pain meds and the withdrawals had started he felt like he was dying. He wondered if he should tell Tim about the baggie of drugs, if he should be concerned that Boyd had gotten them past the federal agents that were supposed to be keeping him and Tim safe guarding the house, if he should flush them down the toilet and say nothing at all, or if he should swallow them and ease the pain. The last time he'd been shot he'd taken the pain meds for a total of four days, including the three days they'd made him stay in the hospital and kept him sedated. He'd kinked the IV and stopped the Morphine that Winona kept pumping into him and had signed an AMA form only a few hours later and was trying to get back into the office. He remembered the look on her face, even though they'd been separated for years she still tried to play the part of the LEO's wife caring for him in his hour of need. No one saw the behind the scenes parts where he'd wake up and tell her he wanted to go home, to get out of there and she'd press the button on the Morphine pump until he passed out. He'd heard her telling the nurses how bad he was hurting, even though it was true, and asking them to give him more sedatives to 'keep him comfortable', which they'd obliged hurriedly to keep a bonafide U.S. Marshal out of pain.

"Raylan?" Rachel knocked on the door.

"I'm fine," he panted," just sick," he stood up, scanning the meds on the counter. He was almost out of pain pills, he guessed he had maybe three left, the muscle relaxers were about done too. The only thing still plentiful were the anxiety meds and some Tylenol 3's,' Shit,' he wiped his face with a washcloth and poured the pills into the toilet and flushed.

Tim loaded the bags into the trunk, his shoulder still aching and his foot had more than one blister on it from the walking cast. He sighed,' I'll be so glad when I get this thing off of me,' he remembered staggering against the car when the zip had come for Raylan. He wondered how long it would take before they'd try again, his phone startled him," Tim Gutterson."

"Hey, how're you and Raylan doing?" Art asked.

"He's sick as hell," Tim slid behind the wheel," the withdrawals are kicking his ass."

"Damn, I texted Rachel earlier and she said he was in the bathroom throwing up."

"Yeah, that was pretty much all night," Tim admitted," I didn't sleep much."

"I hear that in your voice," Art sighed," do you need Rachel to take over for a few hours so you can get some rest?"

"I'm fine, besides Raylan's a lot to handle when he's like this."

"Tim…"

"Art seriously, he's snapping at *me* and we're dating," Tim liked how easily that rolled off his tongue, thinking of Raylan's tongue drove him crazy. He adjusted his sweats and pulled out of the parking space.

"Sounds pretty normal considering."

"This isn't Ray bein' an asshole, this is Ray throwing his guts up with a massive migraine and a gunshot wound that hasn't had time to heal properly."

"We're here for you, both of you," Art reassured him," how're you doin'?"

"I'm—"

"Tim I swear to God if you say you're fine…"

Tim smiled," Shoulder's almost healed, wound's closed. Foot is still in a boot, makes it difficult to do any damn thing and it has blisters rubbed into my heel."

"Can you come in and put some rounds downrange so I can tell Vasquez that you haven't quit?"

Tim rubbed his temple," I guess."

"I know you don't wanna leave Raylan," Art understood but Tim still had a job to do.

"No, Art," Tim realized his tone had gotten sour," I don't wanna leave him because the last time we left the house to go to his doctor's appointment and get a bite to eat there was a fuckin' hitman waiting for us."

"I have feds outside your house—"

"I'm sorry, boss," Tim remembered his place," I'll be there in the morning to put some rounds downrange."

"Son, I understand," Art's voice reminded him of his father's right before he'd start hitting him," I don't want Raylan hurt either."

"I get this cast off next week," he mumbled.

"It can wait until then if you'd like, but I have to tell Vasquez something."

"Next week would be better," Tim pulled into his driveway and parked beside Rachel's van, nodding to the feds on his way in," I mean this has turned my life upside down, boss."

"Tim everyone suspected you and Raylan…"

"No boss, the feds outside my door. I always hoped that Ray and I would…" he stopped he wasn't sure where he was going with this," he was stayin' at my house and one night we kissed and it just felt so normal, even though he was sleepin' with a woman…"

"You don't have to explain, Tim."

"I have a doctor's appointment coming up, I'll stop by the office on my way back and show my face," Tim stepped out of the car and went to the trunk.  
Raylan had collapsed onto the bed, sweat beading on his body and chilling his skin and making him shiver. Rachel was doing her best, trying to console him as he buried his face into the pillows and bit down hard to keep from screaming. His muscles jumped and seized, the hole in his side sending jolts of lightning down his leg and up his neck where his head thundered. He couldn't stand the light in the room, it was blinding even though he knew in reality it was just a lamp and some sunlight that had found its way in," Raylan, do you need an ambulance?" He could barely make out what she was saying, but he heard the fear in her voice. Hell he was scared too, scared he was dying with each worsening episode. He thought back to the baggie of pills and wished he hadn't flushed them, now he understood why junkies would do literally anything to get another hit.

Tim opened the door and heard Rachel call for him, he dropped his keys and kicked the door shut behind him out of reflex and ran to the bedroom," He okay?" He found Rachel trying to comfort a trembling Raylan, his skin glistening in the few rays of light that seeped in through the blinds," Ray?" Tim gathered him in his arms," Ray, I'm here," he clicked the lamp off and held Raylan to his chest, Raylan's fingers digging into his back as he clung to him. Rachel's eyes were wide, surprised at how calm Tim was through all of this," Rach," he nodded and made sure she was making eye contact," go into the bathroom and get the next dose of meds, I have them laid out already in a small cup and bring some water," she nodded and got up," It's okay, Ray," Tim whispered in his ear," I gotcha."

Raylan whimpered, in too much pain to be embarrassed as Rachel came back with the meds. Tim was patient as ever, feeding him one at a time and helping him sit up to drink. He tried to relax and wait for them to work, his back ached from not being able to straighten it and stretch. Tim rubbed his neck and worked his way down his spine and he felt some of the tension ease, minutes crawled by and Raylan wondered if he'd built up too high a tolerance for the meds to work.

"It'll get better," Tim pressed his cheek against Raylan's forehead," I'm here," Raylan nodded and tried to steady his breathing. He couldn't get himself under control, his stomach did a flip and he prayed he didn't throw up the pain meds, Tim must have felt it because he said," I gave you something for nausea, you shouldn't throw up again if you can keep it down for another five minutes," he ran his fingers lightly down Raylan's back," it's almost over," Raylan felt the tug of the sedatives, his muscles jumped less, the shaking started to ease and his head swam," There we go," Tim kept talking to him," see? You're gonna be all right, sweetheart."

Tim looked up at Rachel without moving his head, she was frozen in place. He felt Raylan's muscle spasms get less and less intense," Try to sleep, Ray," he kissed the top of his head and finally felt Raylan's body go slack in his arms," I'm gonna lay you down so you don't get a crick in your back," Tim moved slowly, Raylan moaned and Rachel wasn't sure if it was out of agony or comfort. She'd never heard anyone make that noise before and realized how bad off Raylan was, his usually muscular arms had lost some of their mass and his face had started to sink in on itself like he was turning into a skeleton. Tim pulled the blanket over him," G'night Ray," Raylan cuddled into him and Tim returned the affection," I'm gonna get the groceries, I'll be right back, love you."

"Y'too," Raylan slurred and wrapped his arms around Tim's pillow, breathing in his scent.

Rachel looked fondly at them," I'll get the groceries inside, Tim, you stay with him."

"Thank you," Tim looked relieved," Ray I'll be here until you fall asleep," Raylan murmured something into the pillow.

Rachel had brought the bags in and done the best she could to determine where Tim kept things, his house was obsessively organized so it wasn't too difficult thankfully. She turned and saw Tim standing in the doorway and jumped, putting her hand on her hip out of reflex," Tim!" She gasped.

"He's doin' bad, Rach."

"I can see that," she leaned against the counter," I can also see why Art's givin' you more time off."

"Yeah, he'd normally have me at my desk in the bull pen working case files with paperwork up to my ears."

"I didn't realize he was this bad off."

"The infection is being kept at bay by the massive doses of antibiotics but if the withdrawals get too bad I'm afraid it'll return. Fuckin' doctor won't write him a script for that Suboxone or anythin' like it and you *know* Ray's not goin' to that clinic with all the God damn junkies," he rubbed his forehead.

"How're you doing?"

"I have an appointment with my doctor to see if I can get this damn cast off soon tomorrow. I don't know if I should even go with Ray like he is though."

"I can come back in the morning," she offered.

"He doesn't like the thought of havin' a babysitter," Tim's drawl had gotten thicker since Raylan had started staying with him and Rachel smirked despite herself.

"You have to take care of yourself too, Tim."

"He doesn't want anything to happen to me, I mean fuckin' hitmen showed up at my house! How the fuck did they even find out where I live?!"

"Life with Raylan is never boring."

"Rach, don't get me wrong here, I'd take a bullet for him with a smile on my face; but I almost feel like I can't keep us safe."

"Maybe you two should go away for awhile."

"He said they'll find us, no matter where we go," Tim pushed his hair back.

"What would it take for them to back off?"

"Ray said they won't stop until he's dead."

"Or until they are," Rachel added.

Raylan curled around Tim's pillow, putting a small amount of pressure on his side,' I've got to start gettin' better,' he told himself, the drugs swirling around his head like he was viewing the world through a fog. Cotton mouth was probably the worst symptom, his tongue felt like it had a fuzzy bunny slipper on it and he was choking on the stray threads. Flashes of unwanted memories filled his head, Arlo's beatings when he was a child, crime scenes with dead bodies and blood spattering the room, his friends overseas who had gone on missions and never came back, he put his hands on either side of his face to try and make them stop,' Tim,' he reached out for something comforting, a memory of them, anything. Then,' He'd be a lot better off if you were dead,' the thought didn't even sound like it had come from his mind, it sounded like someone else was speaking in his head. He'd never been suicidal before, off his game once or twice; but never suicidal,' They're just gonna keep comin' until they get you, Tim won't leave you alone and y'know it. They're gonna kill him too, might even let you live once they figure out you're screwin',' images of Tim getting shot, blood blossoming from a hole in his chest assaulted him," Fuck you," he growled into the pillow.

'Y'know I'm right,' the voice persisted,' he's in love with you, you don't deserve it either.'

"Stop…" Raylan was pleading now, the pain had returned something that nothing could ease except another hit of oxy—or death.

'You're gonna get him killed or break his heart, or both,' he couldn't stop the thoughts.

"Please…" he groaned, knowing the voice was his own insecurities, his innermost fears that he was very good at suppressing until now. He rolled over and felt the edge of the bed, dropping to his hands and knees he tried desperately to find reality again.

'Tim has a chance at a life, he's not really into you. How could he be? He feels guilty that you got hurt, so he's obligated to protect you until you recover.'

"Stop—" he couldn't breathe, his chest got tight and his stomach rolled.

He felt hands under his arms,' Once you're back on your feet he'll leave just like everyone else, everyone you care about leaves in one way or another,' he was moving, being dragged to his feet. Raylan fought back, not liking being manhandled,' either you break their hearts and souls,' he was on his back, someone on top of him,' or they get killed; but in the end, Raylan, you'll always be alone. Remember the graves…'

Tim was straddling his waist, Raylan fighting him with every ounce of strength he had left in him," What can I do?" Rachel called.

"I don't know," Tim was holding his wrists, Raylan turned his hand and freed it. Tim tried to regain his grip, but Raylan's fist connected with his jaw. His head whipped sideways, Raylan always had a mean right, Tim scowled and settled more of his weight on Raylan's chest," Ray, it's me, it's Tim," he spoke next to his lover's ear. Raylan stopped fighting him, muscles relaxing he lay still. Tim released his wrists but stayed put just in case," You okay now?"  
Raylan swallowed, he lifted his head and pressed his cheek to Tim's," S-sorry," he kissed Tim's jaw where a red mark was turning into a bruise.

"It's okay," Tim nuzzled him softly and pulled away to get off of him.

"Stay," Raylan's eyes had that smoky haze that made Tim's knees weak, he put his hands on Tim's hips.

"Ray, love," Tim stammered as his body responded," we have company."

Raylan tilted his head to look past Tim," We're alone."

"Rachel must be in the living room," Tim shifted his weight and Raylan ground his hips into him, Tim hissed and growled softly," Ray we need to wait until she's gone, even then you're sick."

"I want you," Raylan dug his fingers into Tim.

"We'll see," Tim steeled himself, Raylan could be insistent.

Tim rolled off of Raylan and stood up," Better tuck that weapon in your waistband," Raylan teased.

"Shut up," Tim shot him a playful glare.

"I'm more than willing to take care of you."

"You were just kicking my ass because you thought your flashback was real and now you wanna suck my dick?" Tim adjusted himself to hide his erection.

"You actin' like y'don' want me to."

"Typical marine," Tim rolled his eyes," fight it or fuck it, and if you can do both," he gave Raylan a thumbs up," even better."

"The few, the proud…"

"Rachel?" Tim found her in the kitchen, starting on a pot of beef stew," Smells good."

"I figured I'd let you two have some privacy," she smiled and added some pepper," he okay?"

"Yeah, y'know Raylan."

"Uh huh," Rachel smirked," why don't you two go spend some time together while he's feeling halfway normal and I'll watch some tv while this cooks."

"Y'sure?" Tim rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm sure, act like I'm not even here," she winked," both of you need to destress. I'll have the tv on loud," Tim blushed.

Raylan got up and went to the bathroom, he threw up again, brushed his teeth and splashed water on his face. Another text on his phone from Boyd,' There's another delivery on your window sill,' he rolled his eyes. He staggered to the window and felt on the outside of the sill, there was another baggie. He closed the window and inspected the baggie, four small white pills inside. He rubbed his pounding head,' I don't know if I can resist,' he scanned the counter, the pain pills were gone now,' Tim must've given me the last ones already,' he put his hands on the counter and stared at the baggie, his hands shaking.  
'It'll all go away if you take just two,' the voice was back, he shook his head but it persisted,' besides, Marshal, it's better than going to the clinic with the rest of the junkies.'

'I'm not a junkie,' he told himself,' I got drugged.'

"Ray?" Tim was outside the door.

"Yeah, I'll be out in a sec," moment of truth, he wanted the pain to stop. Wanted to wrap himself in Tim's arms and feel his lips without his side burning when he arched his back.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," Raylan looked for a place to stash the baggie where Tim wouldn't find it, he put it on top of the cabinets, Tim was too short to see that high up unless he stood on the toilet. He flushed and rinsed his mouth with some mouthwash before heading back into the bedroom to see Tim sitting on the bed," Hey handsome."

"Hey yourself, you look like y'feel better," Tim embraced him and they both fell back onto the sheets.

"I need you," Raylan pulled him into a kiss, rough and open-mouthed, reveling in the sounds that came from Tim as he responded. He ran his hands through Tim's hair and threw his leg over Tim's hips to straddle his thighs. His head still pounding and his side throbbing, but he was desperate to silence his own negative thoughts and resist going back into the bathroom and swallowing all four of those little white pills. Tim submitted to his forcefulness, letting Raylan's hands roam freely under his shirt pushing it up. He helped Raylan get it over his head and let out a surprised gasp as Raylan nipped his collarbone, holding Tim's arms over his head at the wrist. His other hand went to Tim's waistband, groping until he hand a firm hold on him.

"Ray," Tim hissed his name and arched into him, Raylan dominated his mouth and ground his growing erection into Tim's. Tim moaned into him as Raylan gently stroked him, his hands no longer being pinned. He kept his eyes closed ever after their kiss broke and grabbed fistfuls of the pillow behind his head, Raylan had leaned back and was no doubt watching his face. Tim bit his lip, Raylan moved between his legs and pulled his sweats down. Tim lifting a leg so Raylan could free it and slide the pants around his other ankle, Raylan's hand continued to stroke him without stopping. He growled as he felt Raylan's breath on the tip of his erection, holding his breath until the cowboy took in his length and swallowed him. He threw his head back and bit his lip to keep from screaming, a hand going to the back of Raylan's head and guiding him gently.

Raylan realized he'd never really done this before, he had zero technique but he knew what he liked and tried that. Tim was responding with a series of whimpers and moans, quiet ones which lead Raylan to believe Rachel might still be in the house. He didn't care, the voice in his head was quiet and all that was left was Tim, his body, his scent, the way he shuddered beneath Raylan's fingers, the way he said his name when he'd started giving him head, the hand on the nape of his neck guiding his pace but careful to avoid his wounded forehead, it was pure bliss. Tim was his version of heaven, he'd been with a score of women and had never felt passion like this with any of them, a small 'I love you,' played on Tim's lips and he caressed Raylan's shoulder. He pulled off of him and smiled," I love you too," he slid the flannel pajamas over his hips and wriggled out of them, wincing slightly as his muscles flexed.

"Ray you don't have to—" Tim stopped as Raylan crawled on top of him and kissed him deeply.

"I have no idea what I'm doing," he admitted, Tim reached down and ran his fingers on the underside of Raylan's dick. Raylan hissed and bucked into his hand," I just know that I want you."

"Here," Tim fumbled in the top drawer of the nightstand, Raylan kissed him again. He slicked his palm with some lube and returned his attention to Raylan, drawing a moan from him. He worked on him for a few minutes as they kissed before wrapping his legs around Raylan's waist and guiding him into place.

"I don' wanna hurt you," Raylan said breathily, using every bit of willpower he had not to thrust forward and bury himself inside of Tim.

"It's different than with women," Tim's lips curled into that small half-smile Raylan thought was so damn cute," go slow and keep doing that," he nodded to the hand wrapped around him.

Raylan pushed forward, his hand still jerking Tim off, he felt Tim's body enveloping his and groaned. Tim seemed to relax and locked eyes with him, Raylan raised a questioning eyebrow and Tim nodded. He slowly eased his hips forward until he was all the way inside, Tim put his hands on Raylan's hips and guided a pace. Slow at first, letting him get accustomed to Raylan's size. Raylan tightened his grip and Tim pulled at his hips, moaning as Raylan twisted his hand as he worked.

Raylan's side had started burning again, he struggled to keep himself balanced on one hand," I got this," Tim took his hand and placed it on his hips before starting to jerk himself off," you feel good."

Raylan dug his fingers into Tim's hips and thrust, earning him a moan from Tim. He smiled and continued, working hard to get more of those intoxicating sounds from his lover. He lowered himself and propped on an elbow and kissed Tim roughly, bucking into him and feeling his orgasm start to rise. Tim breathing heavily and getting close himself, he realized they'd never talked about this. Suddenly there were a million questions in Raylan's mind," Where…?"

Tim grinned," Don't stop," he grit his teeth and arched his back as Raylan hit his spot," I'm almost—" Raylan couldn't hold off anymore, he thrust hard and bit Tim's shoulder as his body shook from the intensity. He slowly pulled out and moved to slide his lips around Tim who fisted the blankets and arched into him, his leg twitched and Raylan knew he was close. He massaged his balls and felt them tense, Tim growled his name and Raylan swallowed him.

"Strawberry?" Raylan snickered and wiped his mouth.

"Yeah," Tim laughed," I've never used it before, does it taste okay?"

Raylan collapsed on the bed beside him and pulled him in for a kiss," Does it?"

"Not bad," Tim grinned," I prefer the way you taste," he got up and went to the bathroom, wetting a washcloth for them to clean up with. He wiped Raylan down lovingly," You feelin' okay?"

"Not really," Raylan admitted," side hurts and I have a migraine; but I couldn't wait anymore."

"I can't resist you," Tim lay down next to Raylan and put his head on his chest," I wanted you on top because I don't want to hurt you and I know you're new to this."

"Y'wanted me on top because of my domineering personality," Raylan smiled.

"Oh sweetheart," Tim scoffed," very few people have ever topped me."

"Is that a challenge?"

"Only if you want it to be," Tim wrapped his arm around Raylan's chest and snuggled into him, inhaling deeply.

"I'm only pickin' at you, darlin'," Raylan kissed the top of his head," I'd do anythin' for you."

'Including gettin' him killed,' the voice was back and this time Raylan could swear he saw a shadow moving in the corner of the bedroom that he was certain wasn't real, he closed his eyes and buried his face in Tim's hair.

"Love you, Ray," Tim stretched his legs out.

"Love you, Tim."

"I'd better go see what Rachel's doin', y'gonna be okay?" Tim started to get up.

"I'm okay," Raylan sat up," Just gonna go take a shower."

"I'll change your bandages when you get out," Tim pulled his sweats back on, not bothering with a shirt, and walked out of the bedroom closing the door behind him.

Raylan closed the door behind him and put his hands, palms down, on the counter. He knew he'd pay for his little romp with Tim but he'd had no idea it would hurt this bad after. He panted and gingerly touched his side, the pain was blinding and he staggered backwards,' Maybe some warm water will help,' he turned on the shower.

'Or maybe those little pills from Boyd would help,' that voice in the back of his head whispered,' you didn't flush these and you haven't told Tim, y'know you want 'em,' it tempted him further,' You could probably fuck Tim again if you didn't hurt so bad old man,' Raylan put a hand on his forehead and rubbed his eyes,' Shower won't help much and we both know it, just take one.'

'No,' Raylan told himself, he peeled the tape off of his side and tossed the old dressing in the wastebasket,' I am not giving in,' he adjusted the water and stepped into the shower. The voice was right, the warm water did little to ease the pain and might have made it worse. He lathered his chest and let the water run the soap down the rest of his body so he didn't have to touch the ugly hole the bullet had left beneath his ribs.

'Your aim's gonna be off,' the voice continued.

'God dammit just stop already,' Raylan leaned into the stream of water and let it run over his head.

'That Glock's gonna feel mighty heavy when…I should say if shouldn't I? IF you decide to return to active duty. You're afraid now, someone got the better of you, abducted you, tied you up…'

'For fuck's sake!' flashbacks of the back of the van, Boyd trying to comfort him and see to his wounds, the men drugging him.

'Y'know what'll make it go away,' the voice persisted.

Raylan turned off the water and grabbed a towel, he dried his hair as best he could without rubbing his forehead and then wrapped the towel around his hips. A small trickle of blood seeping from his side stained the soft fabric, he'd had enough. The flashbacks, the thoughts he couldn't stop and that damned voice that he knew was really his own fears and insecurities taunting him, his fingers fumbled on top of the cabinet and found the baggie of pills. He ripped the bag open with his teeth and poured them into his mouth.


	19. Oxy

Another explicit scene in this chapter

* * *

CH 19 Oxy

"If you want or need me to come help you I can come by after work," Rachel was putting the last dish in the drying rack.

"That would be great," Tim smiled and hugged her," Ray's a handful on a good day when he's not hurt."

"Things have been quiet at the office without him," she admitted," I've done prisoner transports and been working my ass off in the bull pen on the paperwork, this is like a vacation honestly."

"I'm sorry, I know you're probably swamped."

"I'd rather be swamped and know someone's taking care of Raylan," she waved her hand dismissively.

"He's doin' better than he was, but honestly Rach he's still pretty bad off," Tim rubbed the back of his neck.

"I figured as much," Rachel sighed," I'll be here to do whatever you need me to, I don't want to annoy you though."

"I have a spare bedroom, the sheets are pretty soft," Tim started and paused," I'm pretty sure y'know Ray and I are…" he chewed on his lip.

Rachel let the silence hang for a few minutes," Y'know when you *do* go back to the office and the paperwork is filed there are gonna be questions."

"It's still so new and I haven't had a, boyfriend," he said the word like it was foreign to him," since Jesse," he swallowed," since Jesse died."

"Jesse?"

"My ex-boyfriend, we were in Qatar and he got killed…"

"You know you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Rachel put her hand on his shoulder.

"I—thanks," Tim wiped his eyes as he remembered Jesse's last words to him as he bled out in his arms," also, I'm scared of this."

"Scared of what?"

"Being in love again," Tim ran his hands through his hair, a nervous habit since he had started growing it out after he'd left the Army.

"Raylan's not an easy person to get close to."

"You could say that," he snorted," usually he had to be drunk to open up."

"It's getting late," Rachel checked her phone.

"Bring a bag with you tomorrow please," Tim walked her to the door," I might need you to stay."

"You got it, what time is your appointment?"

"Two in the afternoon," Tim scanned the yard and fingered the gun in his pocket that he hadn't even realized he'd grabbed. The black van with the feds in it was still parked in its usual spot.

"I'll be here after lunch tomorrow then, want me to pick something up for you and Raylan?"

"Pizza would be great," Tim admitted.

"No problem," she got behind the wheel and buckled her seatbelt.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Tim watched her back out and drive away. He went to the van, the agent rolled down the window," Y'know if you and your guys need to come in you're welcome to."

"Thank you, we didn't want to bother you or Deputy Givens while you two are recovering," he smiled.

"I appreciate the protection, the security that you and the other agents provide means a lot."

"Happy to help keep you two safe, besides I get to watch Netflix and play on my phone half the night to help me stay awake. I'm Agent Romero by the way."

"Tim Gutterson," they shook hands," I'll write down my cell in case you guys need anything, just text me and I'll come let you in."

"Thank you, you two have a good night."

"You too," Tim headed back inside. He checked the time,' Time for us both to take our meds and turn in,' he headed for the bedroom,' Ray should be out of the shower by now,' he knew Raylan enjoyed long showers and was trying his best not to hover more than necessary. He found Raylan lying in bed, towel still wrapped around his waist and dipping low over one of his hips," Ray?" He called softly.

"Hey darlin'," Ray looked at him, barely opening his eyes.

"How you feelin'?" Tim went to the bathroom and took his round of antibiotics and steroids and grabbed Raylan's nightly meds.

"M'okay. Missed you."

"Missed you too," Tim sat next to him," take your meds and let me see to your side," Raylan rolled to prop up on an elbow, he swallowed the pills.

"How's your ankle?"

"Hurts a little, mostly from the blisters this cast is rubbing on my heel," he noticed the towel was stained with blood as Raylan turned onto his back," why didn't you tell me you were bleeding?"

"Scab got wet and it bled I guess," Raylan shrugged.

"Gotta clean it," Tim pulled the towel away from the wound.

"Mmmmhmmm," Raylan put a hand on Tim's thigh.

"Gonna hurt, want me to wait for the meds to kick in?" He asked.

"Nah, m'fine," Raylan shook his head, the Oxy he'd taken had his body almost completely numb which was why he had passed out on the bed without bothering to get dressed. His head was fuzzy and he was slurring his words like he did when he got close to the bottom of the bottle but it didn't hurt.

"Y'sure?" Tim raised an eyebrow.

"Really darlin'," Raylan squeezed his leg," M'okay."

"Good to see you're starting to get back to your old self," Tim started cleaning the wound, surprised that Raylan wasn't squirming more," it doesn't hurt?"

"Y'gotta gentle touch," the drugs were pulling at him, his vision blurring in and out and his head swimming.

"I don't like seeing you in pain," Tim taped the new dressing in place and curled up next to Raylan.

"M'fine," Raylan wrapped his leg over Tim's hip and pulled him into a deep kiss. Tim rolled to his back and pulled Raylan on top of him, trailing his fingers down his lover's back and drawing a moan from the cowboy atop him," I want you," he breathed between kisses and slid his hand up Tim's shirt.

"Ray, you shouldn't push it," Tim tried to protest but Raylan was insistent, grinding into his hip and nipping Tim's ear," Ray…" Tim lightly dug his fingers into Raylan's hip," seriously Ray."

Raylan grabbed Tim's arousal and felt it pulse in his hand," Do you really want me to stop?"

"God dammit, Ray," Tim bit his lip.

"Y'know when you bite your lip like that," Raylan pulled Tim's waistband down and started stroking his erection," it drives me crazy."

"Y'know I—" Tim gasped as Raylan squeezed him.

"What'ssh wrong?" Raylan licked his palm and returned his assault on a now squirming Tim," Y'too sore lover? I don't hav'ta be on top."

"Ray, Jesus Christ," Tim's hips were moving in time with Raylan's hand," I'm fine, I don't wanna be on top until…" he arched his back and this time wasn't as gentle when he dug his fingers into Raylan's hip. He remembered his lover's injuries and shot a questioning glance his way.

Raylan grinned, a wolfish look in his eyes," Really?" He ran his fingers through Tim's hair and pulled it lightly. Tim grit his teeth and growled," Want more?" Raylan teased.

"You're gonna start somethin'," Tim warned," I don't wanna hurt you," every fiber in his being told him to grab Raylan. Pull his hair, bite his neck and shoulder right above his collarbone to get that satisfying little whimper he loved so much, to pin his wrists together with one hand and stroke him hard and slow with the other until he begged for more. To torture Raylan in the same way the cowboy had done to him with that little smile when he got drunk, that damn Stetson cocked over his right eye and his shirt unbuttoned to show the hint of that muscular chest he'd wanted contact with for so long.

"I'm fine, and I wanna start somethin'," Raylan bit his shoulder, hard.

"Fine," Tim was careful but still rough, he swept Raylan onto his back and jerked the towel away. He peeled his shirt off slowly, Raylan smiling as he drank in the view. The sweatpants were next, Tim kicked them to the floor and settled back onto his knees between Raylan's thighs," Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Darlin' please, I—" Raylan snorted and started to come back with something smart assed no doubt, Tim surprised him grabbing his wrists and pinning them above his head. He paused, waiting to see how he'd react," More," Raylan breathed and wrapped his legs around Tim. Tim smiled and kissed him, rough and dominating, one hand holding his wrists hostage and the other grabbing Raylan's erection. Raylan hissed in a breath and closed his eyes tightly, Tim's mouth still on his. He struggled lightly against Tim's grip on his wrists and moaned as his body responded to the hand between his legs.

Tim broke their kiss and locked eyes with his lover, stroking him slowly and enjoying the way Raylan whined beneath his touch," More than you bargained for, cowboy?"

"Tim…" Raylan was breathless and writhing," please…" he hadn't been teased like this in—well he'd never been teased like this. Tim was intoxicating, he was getting desperate.

"You don't have to beg," Tim let go of his wrists and put his lips on the head of Raylan's dick," but it's really hot when you do."

"Please," Raylan strained, trying to get those lips on him," Tim—please…" he threw his head back and yelled his name as Tim swallowed him entirely, a trick he hadn't been able to master yet without gagging. He threaded his fingers through Tim's hair, getting a handful and guiding him.

Tim allowed him some control for a few seconds and then stopped and pulled away, Raylan groaned and looked at him confused," I'm on top this time," Tim ran his tongue from base to tip," hands behind your head, lover," Raylan smirked, but obeyed and raised an eyebrow at him," You started this," Tim's lips returned and Raylan grabbed handfuls of the pillow.

"More—" he panted," Please Tim."

Tim's hand replaced his lips, noises of contentment falling from his lover's lips," Y'know the first time can be painful."

"This feels good," Raylan was practically purring.

"You might change your mind," Tim warned," I'll stop if you ask me to."

"I know," Raylan smiled, eyes still closed," don't though," he lay back, his body humming with excitement. Tim's hand working magic on him, he barely noticed when Tim started prodding him. The oxy probably helped, still his muscles tensed at the invasion. Tim was patient and went at a slow steady pace.

He squirmed a bit as he felt himself being stretched, Tim was right about it being a little uncomfortable at first but when the discomfort faded it wasn't bad. He arched his back to give his lover better access and bit his lip.

"Feel good?" Tim asked.

Raylan nodded," More…"

Tim prided himself on his self-control but it was slipping, he made sure he was slick enough not to hurt Raylan and settled himself into position. Raylan wrapped his arms around Tim's back, he decided not to reprimand him this time since it was his first time. He pushed forward slowly, his hand still sending sparks through the cowboy's body and distracting from any unpleasantness. He buried himself into his lover inch by inch, Raylan taking him in surprisingly well for a virgin,' God damn he's a virgin…' Tim almost snickered. Once he was all the way in he paused and broke their kiss," You okay?"

"Hurts a little," Raylan admitted," you're big."

"You want me to stop?"

"God no," Raylan answered quickly," I'll get used to you."

Tim eased in and out slowly, watching Raylan's expressions as he did. Within minutes Raylan was moaning softly and Tim decided to try and find his spot, he adjusted his hips and kept his pace slow and even.

The oxy was doing a wonderful job of keeping him relaxed, it still hurt at first but the pain was soon numbed and Tim's hand was doing a good job of keeping his body hot and wanting more. He felt Tim adjust his position and suddenly a jolt of pleasure so intense his climax almost hit immediately, his eyes flew open and he bit Tim's chest. A feral noise he'd never made before tore from his throat, his fingers clawed down Tim's back," Fuck," he growled," harder."

Tim knew he'd found it, he pushed harder and sped up. Raylan arched into him, Tim was sure he'd pay for this later but right now he wanted to take advantage of the pain meds Raylan was quickly running out of. His own climax was closing in on him, Raylan begging him 'faster' and 'harder' wasn't helping. He let go of Raylan's erection and grabbed his hips, letting his weight fall on his chest and biting down on his shoulder as he slammed himself into Raylan. The bite did him in and he moaned Raylan's name as he came. He felt Raylan's own climax, sticky and hot between their bodies, Raylan's hand had fallen at his side as he lay panting and kissing Tim's neck. Tim withdrew slowly," Love you, Ray."

"Love you, Tim," Raylan purred into his ear, the oxy clouding his mind.

"Let's get cleaned up," Tim slid from the bed, Raylan barely noticed. Tim was nervous he'd overdone it and Raylan had pushed himself too far this time, he came back to bed with a warm cloth and some meds," Hey lover," he cleaned his partner up and offered the sedatives, Raylan shook his head and instead ran his hand drunkenly up Tim's side," Y'sure?"

"M'fine," Raylan reached for him," c'mon to bed."

Tim returned the pills to their bottle and pulled the blankets over them," You're gonna be sore."

"Worth it," Raylan snuggled into him, tangling their legs and was asleep almost instantly.

Tim was up first, not unusual since he'd never known Raylan to be a morning person. He got out of bed carefully and stretched, his shoulder aching as he flexed. The cast on his foot was small without the boot on it, but still hindered him in more ways than one and it was noticeable whenever he tried to put on anything besides his favorite Army Ranger sweats. He took his morning round of meds and went to the kitchen to start breakfast, it was a pancake kind of morning to him. He hummed absent-mindedly as he took the pancakes from the skillet and started on some bacon to go with them, glancing out the window. He stopped, the black SUV that was normally parked outside wasn't there. He put the skillet on one of the cool burners and switched off the heat on the one he'd been using.

Tim had guns all over the house, he grabbed the spare from the top of the fridge and cleared the house. Nothing out of place,' I'm being paranoid,' he told himself,' but paranoid has kept Ray alive,' his own safety was an afterthought even though he could almost hear Raylan bitching at him for that. He checked the windows, there was a familiar black SUV parked by the street. He breathed a small sigh of relief but didn't let his guard drop yet, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and texted the Agent Romero,' Who's on detail at my house this morning?'

'Agent Singer took the morning shift, I got called to work a case. I'll be there ASAP to relieve him, black SUV should be in your driveway or on the street adjacent your house. Everything okay?' Came the reply.

'Just woke up, detail wasn't in their usual parking spot. Wondered if it was someone new.'

'His cell number is 555-3421 if you'd like to confirm, he texted me this morning when he got there.'

'Thank you Agent Romero 10-4.'

'If there's a problem TG you let me know.'

'You got it.'

Tim typed the new number into his phone and sent it a text,' This is Tim Gutterson, is this Agent Singer? Agent Romero told me you were assigned to my house this morning.'

He watched the figure in the van, the windows on their units were always tinted super dark but the sun was hitting the cab just right and he could see someone moving inside. He waited and glanced down at his phone, keeping it in his left hand to free his right hand to hold his gun. Senses on high alert the silence was almost deafening, he heard one of the doors open towards the back of the house and footsteps coming down the hallway. He whirled and raised his gun as they got closer," Hey darlin', what're you…" Raylan came around the corner in a pair of flannels," Jesus Christ!" He jumped back and put his hands up," Tim what the fuck?!"

"I'm sorry, Ray," Tim instantly lowered his gun," the detail outside wasn't parked in the usual spot and I got nervous."

Raylan was accustomed to Tim's obsession with securing the house over time, however the oxy he'd taken last night was still working its way out of his system and he'd completely forgotten the number one rule at Tim's house. Don't sneak up on Tim, Tim glanced at his phone as it vibrated," I told you we need to get outta here."

'Agent Singer here, gonna roll my window down and flash my badge.'

Tim looked up and saw the window roll down and a hand with a badge in it stick out,' Thank you, if you need anything please text me,' he replied.

'No problem, Deputy Gutterson. I'll let you know if I need a break.'

'10-4.'

"It's a new agent working detail this morning," Tim sighed and returned the gun to the top of the refrigerator and continued cooking breakfast.

"It's only a matter of time," Raylan warned, coming up behind him and wrapping his arms around Tim's chest," I can't keep you safe," he kissed the back of Tim's neck, Tim shivered in pleasure.

"Ray, I'm here for you," Tim put a hand over Raylan's," no matter what happens."

"I love you."

"I love you too, Ray."

"Which is why I don't want you to get yer'self killed," Raylan realized his speech slurred and hoped Tim didn't catch it. He'd broken one of the pills in half this morning to take the edge off, his side still burned and his back ached.

"Raylan," Tim turned and put a hand on each of Raylan's shoulders, using his full name with a serious expression on his face," I'm not leaving you."

"I'm afraid you'll…"

"Stop it," Tim put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. When they broke he said," I know the risks, no arguing and go back to bed until I finish breakfast."

"Tim…"

"How're you feelin' this morning?" Tim changed the subject.

"M'fine, side hurts a—oh," Raylan grinned devilishly," y'mean did you hurt me last night? If you were too rough."

"Y'might be sore but…"

"Wanna kiss it and make it better?" He flashed those eyes at Tim that made the soldier melt.

"Listen lover," he let the word roll from his lips as he backed Raylan against the hallway, grabbing his hips," I will kiss, or lick anything you want me to."

"Really?" A thousand images flashed through Raylan's mind and he felt blood rushing south.

"I'll eat you for breakfast if you're up for it," his voice took on a rough tone.

"Turn that stove off and make good on that then," Raylan kissed the spot between Tim's throat and shoulder that drove him crazy and then sank his teeth into him. Tim's knees got weak and he sagged against the cowboy slightly. Raylan's stare was intensely lustful as he took Tim's hands and headed for the bedroom.

"I have to admit," Raylan lay panting on the pillows, basking in a post-coital glow," when you said you wanted to have me for breakfast I had something different in mind."

"Of all the blow jobs you've gotten," Tim was drying Raylan's hair after their shower, easing around the sutures in his forehead," you mean to tell me no one's ever rimmed you?"

"Winona acted like blowjobs were a chore after we got married, the other women I've been screwin'…" he looked up at Tim," I don't know, I've never thought about it. One woman tried puttin' a finger in there and I 'bout jumped outta bed."

Tim laughed, it was utterly genuine and heart warming," I'd have paid money to've seen that."

"Makes me think, what else have I been missin'?" Raylan teased as he picked up one of the plates of pancakes Tim had brought in while he showered.

"Well we have the rest of our lives to try whatever you want."

"Whatever I want?" Raylan raised an eyebrow.

"Whatever you want," Tim repeated," as long as I get to do the same."

Raylan snickered," This is still so new to me," Tim looked hurt and Raylan immediately fumbled for words to make it better," Oh darlin', I'm not sayin' I don't like it," he embraced Tim lovingly," I love you and whatever this crazy mess is that we're in together."

"I don't wanna lose you," Tim leaned into him.

Raylan tilted his chin so their eyes met," I'm not Jesse."

"Ray, I—"

"Tim," Raylan put a finger to his lips," stop it, I know you're scared I'll end up like Jesse," Tim rarely showed any emotions at work, but here at home with Raylan things were different. Raylan saw his eyes go glassy and kissed him," I need you just as much as you need me."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I still miss Jesse," a tear escaped his eye.

"And that's okay," Raylan petted his hair," you loved him, I'm not here to take his place."

"No one's ever understood."

"I don't understand, but I'm here for you," the two stood holding onto each other for several minutes, a sense of peace washing over them. Raylan rubbed Tim's injured shoulder and he leaned into him, sighing contently.

"How's your side?"

"You know me too well," Raylan limped to the couch, Tim supporting him," it's startin' to burn again."

"Let's watch crappy daytime tv until I have to go get this cast off then."

"I forgot you had an appointment today," Raylan winced," are you healed enough to get that off?'

"That's what they're gonna check today," Tim stretched out on the couch and put his head on Raylan's thigh," Rachel will be here in awhile, not to babysit Ray, so there's someone with a gun in the house that I trust enough to keep you safe while I'm gone."

"Who's bringing you?" Worry laced his tone.

"I was plannin' on drivin'," Tim looked up at him," I went to get groceries yesterday and nothin' happened."

"I worry about you is all," Raylan sighed," I don't like you goin' alone."

"I don't like leavin' you here, but you're still hurtin'."

"Are you makin' fun of my accent?" Raylan feigned offense.

"Why Deputy Givens I'd never," Tim grinned.

"Verbally harassing an officer of the law," Raylan grabbed his wrists," I'm afraid I'm gonna hav'ta cuff you."

"Oh I'm so sorry," Tim playfully tried to escape," what're you gonna do with me?"

"Oh darlin'…" Raylan leaned down the run his fingers over Tim's sweatpants, Tim arched his back and Raylan tried to ignore the fire spreading down his side.

A knock at the door interrupted them, Raylan jumped and groaned in pain.

"Just me," Rachel called through the door.

"You okay?" Tim sat up, concern crossing his face. Raylan nodded and pointed to the door, Tim got up and opened it," Hey Rach."

"I texted you but you didn't respond," she set a duffel bag down on the chair next to the couch," Hey Raylan, how're you feeling?"

"You startled us," Tim was holding out two pills to Raylan who took them.

"Thanks," Raylan hadn't noticed Tim go to the back,' Oxy's wearin' off,' he thought miserably,' I'm not takin' another one.'

'Yes you will,' the voice was back.

'No, I won't,' he shook his head,' I'm not a junkie.'

'It's the only thing that eases the pain,' the voice wasn't lying,' and you didn't have any nightmares.'

'That's because of Tim,' Raylan rubbed his forehead where the stitches were itching.

'You and Tim have been sleeping together for awhile,' it teased him,' maybe not fuckin' but you're no stranger to his company.'

"God dammit!"

"Ray, I won't be gone long," Tim knelt in front of him, Raylan seemed to be coming out of a dream state and looked confused," Ray, you okay?"

"Yeah," Raylan shook his head to clear the fog," I'm sorry, I don't feel too good," Tim helped him as he stood up.

"Ray?"

"Gonna be sick," Raylan stumbled, his vision blurring on his way down the hall to the back bathroom. Pain had started to radiate into his chest and it hurt to breathe, he hoped Tim hadn't seen how bad it had gotten,' That was fast,' he hoped he could make it to the bathroom before he passed out.

"Coulda used the one up front," Tim called to him.

"He okay?" Rachel asked.

"The withdrawals are makin' him really sick," Tim stared after him.

Raylan closed the door behind him and locked it, he searched the top of the cabinet for the baggie and remembered he'd taken the remaining pills the night before,' Fuck,' he ran a hand through his hair, his side burned and his back ached. He opened the window and felt around on the sill for another delivery from Boyd, he was about to give up when he found it. He breathed a sigh of relief as he retrieved another small baggie and closed the window, the last baggie had two pills in it but this one had three. He popped the zipper on the baggie and swallowed one of the pills before putting the rest on top of the cabinet. He clutched his side and braced on the wall,' I can't stand the pain,' his eyes screwed shut and he dropped to his knees, praying the drugs would work soon.

'You think one is gonna be enough?' The voice laughed at him, the bathroom light was so bright it seemed blinding,' There's a reason Boyd left you three this time,' it continued,' take another one,' he shook his head,' it's the only thing that makes the pain stop,' Raylan was on his forearms and knees panting,' it's the only thing that makes me stop talking too,' that did it.

Raylan dragged himself to his feet and swallowed another pill,' Anything to get you to shut up,' he collapsed on the floor,' What the hell am I doing?' He held his head and focused on breathing, minutes crawled by and finally the familiar numbness started spreading over his body. He sat up and flushed the baggie down the toilet,' Last time didn't hurt like this,' he pulled his shirt up to inspect the dressing on his side.

'Last time you weren't drugged with Oxy and Fentanyl and God only knows what else for almost a week,' Raylan groaned.

'I thought you went away when the Oxy kicked in.'

'When it peaks you don't hear me as well.'

Raylan laughed,' I'm going crazy.'

"Ray, I gotta go, you okay?" Tim knocked on the door.

"Y-yeah," his voice sounded weak even to him.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Raylan rested his head on the wall behind him.

"Still sick?" Tim helped him up.

"Yeah," Raylan's head swam as the Oxy found its way around his body,' you have no idea,' he looked at Tim,' what would you say if you knew?'


	20. Secrets

CH 20 Secrets

Tim drummed his fingers on his knees as he waited in the waiting room to be seen by the surgeon, a slender nurse opened the door and called," Gutterson?"

"Yes ma'am," he stood and limped towards her,' Great,' he thought as he sat on the crinkly paper and got his vitals taken,' more waiting,' his vitals were low, normal for him as he was athletic and hit the gym on a regular basis. He scrolled through his phone after the nurse left,' I don't even remember what she said her name was,' he was going through his photos, deleting random things and some old case files he'd taken pictures of that were now closed. He came across pictures he hadn't remembered taking, pictures that Rachel had probably taken since he was in them. He realized he hadn't gone through his phone much in the last few days except to call or text.

He covered his mouth with his hand, Raylan was on his screen the day they'd found him in Florida. Bloody, lips blue, zip-tied to that old nasty futon, hands turning purple from circulation being cut off for so long, Tim saw what must've been his shoulder as he'd ran towards that futon. The next picture was him cutting the zip ties, Raylan's face twisted in agony. His blood ran cold as he remembered how limp and lifeless his lover was, literal dead weight in his arms, body shivering and muscles spasming as he tried to regain consciousness. He scanned the next few, Raylan waking up and clinging to him as he cried and tried desperately to comfort him, terrified that yet another man he had fallen in love with was dying in his arms. The doctor opened the door, Tim jumped and almost dropped his phone.

"Mr. Gutterson," he was reading over a file and hadn't looked up yet.

Tim wiped his face, he hadn't realized he'd started crying," Yes sir."

"I bet you'd like to get that boot off of your foot," he pulled a rolling stool over with his foot and sat down, Tim nodded," Let's take a look at how you're healing up then, see what we can do," he unfastened the velcro straps on the heavy boot and eased it off his foot," this is more of a stabilizer than an actual cast, I'm not sure why there wasn't a plaster cast…"

"I requested something I could walk on without crutches," he explained," my boyfriend—" he wasn't sure how to explain what had happened to Raylan," he got abducted, he got shot and got a nasty infection."

"Naturally you wanted to take care of him," the doctor was massaging various parts of his foot, Tim wincing when he hit the bruised areas.

"Kinda my job," Tim replied," we're U.S. Marshals."

"I see," the doctor continued his exam," how's your pain?"

"I'm fine, sir," he answered quickly, too quickly judging from the look the doctor was giving him.

"You got shot as well," he went back to his exam of Tim's ankle," lose the shirt and let me look at that," he stood up and wrote notes in Tim's file. Tim slipped his good arm out, then his head and finally pulled the shirt over his injured shoulder," Is it stiff?" He shot Tim another glare," don't lie to me either, son."

"Compared to the injuries Ray sustained…"

"Don't compare, I want to know how you're feeling," he was peeling the dressing off of Tim's shoulder.

"It hurts," Tim admitted," I don't want pain meds though," then something crossed his mind,' Ray's doctor won't write him a script for pain meds, maybe this man will and he can just take mine.'

"I'd say this hurts a lot more than you let on, if you're going to take care of your boyfriend you need to be physically able to," he hit a tender spot and Tim grunted," do you have full range of motion?"

"Yes sir, just hurts and it's stiff when I wake up or if I sit still too long. Same with my leg, but that boot is so heavy."

"I can write you a muscle relaxer to ease the tension and some Hydrocodone for the pain," he poked Tim's neck, chest and back," that sound good?" Tim nodded," You're already a hero, soldier, you don't need to suffer needlessly," Tim looked up at him surprised," I read about what you and Deputy Brooks did in Miami, I'm guessing you're seeing the man you went there to rescue?"

"Yes sir."

"You can put your shirt back on, I can do a lighter brace for your foot and take the makeshift cast off that they put on you in Miami. Their medical care wasn't up to par with what I'd have done; but if you don't take it easy you're looking at reconstructive surgery on both your shoulder and your ankle."

"Yes sir."

"Heard you and your partner busted some trafficking when you found your boyfriend."

"We did," Tim pulled his shirt on.

"I don't know if anyone's told you this, but good job."

"Thank you."

"Take this to the orthopedic floor and have them fit you for a brace, I'm hoping your ankle will heal on its own and you won't need surgery," he held out a packet.

Tim pulled his phone out and called Raylan when he left the office, he smiled when a familiar "Hey darlin'," greeted him.

"Hey love."

"What'd the doctor say?"

"I'm gonna get a brace instead of this clunky boot I've been sportin'."

"That's great," Tim could hear the smile in Raylan's voice," how's your shoulder?"

"You're a good nurse," Tim pressed the button on the elevator," he said it's healin' up fine."

"I don't know about all that, but that's good to hear too."

"I'm going to the orthopedic floor to get this new brace fitted and then by the pharmacy to pick up my meds, you and Rachel need anything on my way back?"

"No, I think we're okay. We've been watching Dr. Know-it-all on tv," Tim heard Rachel's playful banter on the other end," she's gonna kill me one of these days," Raylan laughed.

"How're you feeling?"

"Good," it wasn't a lie, the oxy had him feeling ten feet tall and bulletproof provided he could stand up straight.

"I'm glad you're getting back to your old self," Tim got off the elevator and headed for the ortho office.

"I'm gonna be fine."

"I'm about to walk into the ortho's office."

"I'll see you at home, be careful. Love you."

Tim smiled again, those words rolled so easily off of Raylan's lips when aimed at him," Love you too, Ray."

Raylan wasn't lying, he resumed his position on the couch as Rachel snacked on some of the pizza she'd brought earlier. One of the daytime psychology shows was on tv and she seemed engrossed in it, he stretched lazily and checked his texts. A whole lot of texts from coworkers wishing him well and checking on him, then another one from Boyd,' I take it my packages are being appreciated?' He rolled his eyes, and replied,' What do you want?'

'I'm trying to do you a favor, Raylan. We both know you don't want to be seen at the clinic, but if it's not appreciated I can always stop risking my ass to help you.'

'Not what I meant, Boyd. I know you're not doing this for free, what do you want?' The room felt hot.

'Nothing but some understanding when we cross paths again.'

'Right, so you want me to owe you a favor?' Raylan shifted nervously.

'I wouldn't say that.'

'Dammit Boyd, just tell me what the hell you want.'

'When you feel up to meeting me in person we'll talk. Until then I'll keep dropping packages off for you if you need them,' Raylan didn't answer for a few minutes and stared at his phone, another text came through,' Do you need them or are you just throwing them away?'

'They're not going to waste,' Raylan hit send and tried not to think about it, he knew that Boyd would realize he needed those pills,' I'm backing off though.'

'Sure you are, Raylan. Delete these messages, I'll drop another package off tonight.'

'You do the same.'

'You have my word,' Raylan snorted, that text was followed by another,' I'm real sorry about what happened to you Raylan, I feel like in some way it was my fault. I should have had more security around to protect us, I'm not trying to take advantage of you I promise. I'm just helping a friend.'

Raylan's finger hovered over the delete all button, he hesitated and wondered if he should fess up and show Tim the messages,' No, he'd be—' he frowned, exactly what would Tim be? Angry Tim was easy enough to handle, lots of shouting and cursing; but disappointed and hurt Tim shut down and was silent. Raylan couldn't handle the silence, he deleted the texts figuring that after all they'd been through he'd have to trust Boyd this time. He closed his eyes and decided to take a nap until Tim got home.

Tim waved to the officer working detail," C'mon in and take a break."

"Thank you," Agent Singer followed him to the door.

"Hey Rach, this is Agent Singer," he introduced them as he came inside," he's on detail until tonight, figured I'd give him a break for a few minutes."

"Nice to meet you Agent Singer," Rachel shook his hand.

"Ray, sweetheart?" Tim knelt next to the couch as Agent Singer found his way to the front bathroom," I'm home," Raylan stirred a little and smiled in his sleep," Agent Singer came in for something to eat and a bathroom break, he's working detail until tonight when Romero gets back."

"Romero?" Raylan opened his eyes a little.

"Not the same Romero," Tim kissed his forehead, remembering the Romero in Miami who'd raked his boyfriend over the coals when questioning him on what happened.

"Good," Raylan closed his eyes again.

"Did'ya eat?"

"Hmmm?"

"Did you eat anything?" Tim repeated," Rachel brought pizza."

"He did," Rachel was stretching," took some coaxing though."

"How's the new brace?" Raylan was sitting up.

"Feels good," Tim sat beside him and pulled him close.

"Art buggin' you to get back to the office?"

"Wants me to go put a few rounds downrange, just to shut Vasquez up."

"That wiry little prick," Raylan muttered," Doc clear you to shoot again?"

"Left shoulder shouldn't affect me too much, and you have an appointment with Dr. Kepnar tomorrow."

"You miss the office?" Rachel asked.

"Kinda," the thought of going back to work exhausted him.

"You're still on leave for awhile," Tim kissed his temple.

"Thank you for the break," Agent Singer was on his way back to his car," my relief should be here—" he paused as he looked up and saw Raylan and Tim tangled in each others' arms," around seven tonight."

"Text me if you need anything else," Tim smiled.

"Thank you," he closed the door behind him.

Raylan, Tim and Rachel spent the evening watching tv. When Raylan went to the bathroom Rachel looked at Tim," He seems stronger."

"I think so," Tim crossed his arms," he's avoiding dealing with anything that happened."

"Yeah, he was talking in his sleep. How're the flashbacks?"

"Hasn't had any lately, but he's using other methods to keep himself distracted."

"Oh?" Rachel leaned forward.

"I'm afraid I'm gonna hurt him, he's insatiable," Tim shrugged," not that I mind getting laid…"

"Classic Raylan," Rachel laughed.

Raylan checked the window sill, another baggie of oxy was waiting for him,' You're gonna have to show your face at the office soon.'

'God dammit,' there were four pills in this baggie.

'You didn't think I'd leave you alone that easily did you?'

'I'm fine to go back to work,' Raylan swallowed two of the pills.

'Sure you are, as long as you have a steady supply of oxy to steady your hands,' he stared at himself in the mirror,' can you even hold your gun?'

'Art'll have me in the bull pen for a few weeks and doing prisoner transports.'

'Either way, you're gonna have to put some rounds downrange with Tim and someone's bound to notice you're fuckin' high,' Raylan grit his teeth.

'I'll be fine in a few days, doc'll prolly clear me tomorrow.'

'But you don't wanna go back,' it was infuriating how right that voice was.

'Shut up,' he stashed the remaining two oxys on top of the cabinet and returned to the couch with Tim. He fell asleep, head in Tim's lap, about an hour after they'd started a movie. Tim and Rachel had hauled him to bed, he was barely aware he was being tucked in with the drugs in his system. He groped for Tim and wrapped himself around his lover,' Tim,' he clung to him,' I want to stop doing this.'

Tim knew Raylan hated doctors, well their offices and the ridiculousness of having to wait so long. He'd been jumpy all morning, reacting to any sudden noise or movement, PTSD rearing its ugly head again,' Out of his element,' Tim put his hand on Raylan's thigh, it didn't seem to help and almost looked like he was more anxious. True Tim didn't think Raylan cared about who knew they were dating, but his senses were on higher alert than normal and the stimulation was probably overwhelming. He moved his hand away, Raylan looked at him questioningly," You okay?"

"Y-yeaa—-ah," he dragged the word out as he stared down the door," n-no," he admitted.

"Givens?" Raylan looked up startled at his name.

"Take off your shirt, there's a gown on the bed if you want it. Dr. Kepnar will be in soon," the nurse said on his way out.

"First time I've had a male nurse," Raylan noted, he pulled his shirt up.

Tim tried not to hover," Y'need help?"

"I think I got it," Raylan handed Tim the shirt.

"Getting easier?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, it doesn't hurt as much."

The door clicked as it opened and Raylan reached for a gun and ducked," Mr. Givens," Dr. Kepnar walked in," are you alright?"

"Y-yeah," he regretted not taking another oxy before he left the house, being afraid of every noise around him was embarrassing.

"Let's take a look at you, lay back," Dr. Kepnar pulled on a pair of gloves and peeled the dressing away from Raylan's side," How's your pain been?"

"Still hurts," he admitted.

"I can give you something to help with that," Dr. Kepnar inspected the stitches," it's healing up nicely. Looks like your boyfriend's been taking good care of you."

"He has," Raylan flashed Tim an appreciative smile.

"Your forehead's closed up, I can get the stitches out if you want," Raylan nodded," I thought as much, they been itchin'?"

"I'm about to make him wear mittens if he keeps messin' with it," Tim shot him a shit-eating grin.

"Fuck off," Raylan fired back," sorry doc."

"I've heard worse, lay your head back," he clipped the threads and removed the stitches," that should feel better."

"Much better," Raylan rubbed his head.

"I suppose you'll want cleared to get back to work," Raylan's expression changed, Dr. Kepnar had his back to him but Tim noticed it," you should be fine to go back to light duty on Monday, just remember you still have a hole in your side that's healing. I'm giving you some Hydrocodone for the pain, take it as needed because the more you're up and moving around the more you're gonna hurt, and if you need anything call me. How's the withdrawals off the drugs?"

"I got real sick," Raylan swallowed a lump in his throat.

'Yeah, let's tell him about all the oxy you've been taking lately,' his inner voice was back.

"I'll give you a script for nausea too."

"The other doctor wouldn't write anything for him."

"He wouldn't write a script for dope," Raylan growled.

"You're not taking the Suboxone?" Dr. Kepnar turned around.

"No, I'm not going to a clinic with a buncha junkies."

"How long have you been off off it?"

"About three days."

"You still taking your regular pain medications and anxiety meds?"

"Yeah, Tim keeps up with my schedule."

"He's running out though," Tim added.

"Mr. Givens that could have had serious consequences, detoxing off of heroin and oxy is serious business."

"About that, I just," his phone buzzed, he stared blankly at the number for a few seconds before he recognized it," I'm sorry, I have to take this. Hello?"

"Hey daddy!" A small voice on the other end of the phone greeted him, followed by another excited one," Dad!"

"Ricky, Randy, hey boys!" He felt his eyes water. Ricky was eight and Randy was ten now, he and Winona had decided to let them finish the school year with their classes and stay with her parents.

"Dad!" Randy was the more stoic one," we saw you on the news! Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, just a little banged up is all," Tim saw a smile cross his face that he'd never seen before," How're you guys doin'? I miss you."

"Dad," Ricky whined," you were in Miami and you didn't come see us?!"

Raylan's blood went cold, the school his sons were attending was in Miami," Boys, where are you?"

"With Nana, duh," Ricky sounded annoyed.

"Put her on the phone, Buddy," Raylan prayed Winona had had the sense to tell Nana to get the boys out of there.

"Raylan?" She answered.

"Yes ma'am," he was gripping the phone tightly," can the boys hear me?"

"Boys, go do your homework," she called to them," No, how are you feeling?"

"Where are you?"

"We went to our summer home in Colorado, is everything alright?"

"Winona called you then," he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Yes, she said you'd been injured and the kids might be in danger if we stayed in Miami. Although the boys were some mad you didn't come visit them and we told them they couldn't go see you."

"Thank you," he wanted to hug her," I didn't want them seeing me like that and yes, Miami isn't safe."

"We can bring them to Kentu—"

"No!" He cut her off," I have some very dangerous men looking for me, keep the boys with you and don't tell anyone where you went. Tell the boys not to say anything either."

"Raylan what kinda trouble are you in? What's goin' on?"

"When I moved from Miami to Harlan it wasn't for a promotion, I moved because I shot a mobster and his men wanted me dead. Winona wanted to let Ricky and Randy finish the school year and I agreed thinking they'd be safe since they're not on my file."

"Good idea, yeah Winnie called us and told us to get outta town that you'd gone and gotten half-killed and not to tell the boys."

"Thank you," he covered his mouth with his hand to keep from crying,' My boys are safe at least.'

"They saw you and that sniper partner of yours on the news with a woman agent, saw you were abducted and in critical condition and they went crazy."

"I can imagine."

"Dad! Dad! Dad!" Ricky's voice.

"What, son?"

"Do you have a computer with Skype?"

"I can find one when I leave the doctor's office, Buddy."

"I'll have Nana text you my screen name in case you forgot it."

"We got your postcard," Randy's voice.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, the one with the mountains on it. Are there really mountains like that up there?" He asked.

"There sure are."

"Can we come visit you?" Raylan's heart broke," Please!"

"Summer's comin' soon guys," Raylan slicked his hair back.

"News lady said you got hurt," Randy sounded worried," You okay, Dad?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just needed some sleep, y'know your Dad never sleeps."

"Well they said you were critical," Randy didn't believe him.

"I spent the night in the hospital so Tim wouldn't get nightmares," he grinned.

"Tim get hurt too?"

"Yeah, he broke his ankle. Hey guy, can I call you when I get home?"

"Yeah, Skype us! We miss you, Dad!" Ricky was excited.

"I'll see if Tim can set it up for me."

"Promise?" Randy was gonna hold him to that and he knew it.

"Promise, love you guys."

"Love you too Dad!" Both voices chimed together.

"My sons," Raylan explained.

"You have son*s*, as in more than one?" Tim thought he'd seen pictures of boys in Raylan's wallet before but wasn't sure and din't want to pry.

"Winona and I had two boys before I moved here from Miami."

"Where are they?"

"Safe with their grandparents," Raylan's head hurt and his body had that familiar itch when he'd gone too long without those little pills Boyd had left him.

"Thank God, Ray I didn't know…"

"No one does, darlin' it's okay," Raylan reached for his shirt," I don't talk about them in case shit like this happens."

"Well we're finished with you, Mr. Givens," Dr. Kepnar was signing his prescriptions," Take care of him," he looked at Tim.

"I will," Tim helped him with his shirt and Raylan didn't complain.

"Anything else about Raylan Givens I should know?" Tim asked as they got back in the car.

"Not that I can think of."

"No more secrets you're hidin'?" Tim put a hand on his shoulder.

Raylan swallowed hard,' I'm a drug addict,' he thought to himself,' I need you to save me from myself.'


	21. Pictures

This chapter has some explicit scenes followed by a big reveal!

Ch 21 Pictures

"I don't mind that you have kids," Tim was saying," I like kids actually, I wanted kids…"

"I miss them so much," Raylan sighed.

"I'll bet, how long's it been since you seen 'em?"

"Since I moved here," he ran his fingers through his hair.

"How d'ya think they'll handle—us?" Tim asked cautiously.

"I think they'll be happy to see me happy, it'll be a big adjustment though."

"Maybe we should limit the amount of changes in their lives to one at a time," Tim suggested.

"Hey where's my hat?"

"I thought it was odd you hadn't asked me for it," Tim smirked," Ray, what's goin' on with you?"

"I forgot my hat."

"You haven't been yourself lately," Tim was direct.

"I know," Raylan wanted to tell him about the oxy so bad, but the thought of losing Tim was too painful.

"I'm not gonna leave you," it was like Tim could read his mind," no matter what it is."

"I'm in my head a lot."

"We need to show our faces at the office soon either way, Art's got paperwork for us and everyone's been blowin' my phone up."

"I'm too tired," Raylan felt his body heating up and beginning to itch.

'No, you wanna go home to get another hit,' he was getting tired of his inner voice being right all the damn time.

"I don't wanna leave you alone," Tim's hand found his.

"I'll sleep it off," Raylan squeezed his hand," really, darlin', I'm okay. I know you have paperwork to fill out."

"I'll bring it home, it's about us anyway."

"Hmmm?" Raylan realized he was scratching his arm and made a conscious effort to stop.

"The disclosure about our relationship status," Tim reminded him.

"I'm sorry, I'm out of it. Hearin' from Ricky and Randy, I just went through about fifty different emotions."

"Understandable, I'll bring you home then," Tim could tell Raylan was nervous, he didn't have kids but he couldn't imagine what it must be like to have to worry about their safety while injured. The rest of the drive home was quiet, Raylan's hand in his," I'll get your meds from the pharmacy, you should go lay down for awhile."

"I'm gettin' old," he smirked as Tim followed him in the house.

"I always did have a thing for older men," Tim kissed him when they got inside.

"Asshole."

"Fuck you."

"You offerin'?" Raylan grinned.

"I thought it got harder to get hard after fifty," Tim was leading him to the bedroom.

"You weren't complaining the other night," Raylan turned to face him, hands roaming beneath his shirt.

"You either," Tim was breathless," you feelin' up to this?"

"Stings a little, not gonna lie."

"Go take something for it and I'll be waiting for you when you get back," Tim pulled his shirt over his head and sat on the bed," new meds are on the counter."

Raylan popped the top on the new bottles,' These might not be strong enough now,' that voice was back.

'Same thing Boyd's been deliverin',' he thought back as he swaggered to the bed where Tim was waiting, shirt already off,' and you can shut up because my boyfriend looks good enough to eat.'

His phone buzzed and he checked it after he swallowed his meds, it was a text from an unknown number with an image attached to it. He opened it out of curiosity, shock ran through his body and he collapsed as the flashback hit.

—His chest burned, he tried to sit up to look at it and realized he was tied down. He struggled and pain exploded through his body," He's not bad," someone was standing over him," he's bleedin' everywhere though."

"Yeah, we're giving him the good stuff to keep him quiet."

'What?' Raylan tried to make sense of what was happening.

"We won't need him for long unless my guy decides he likes him, but he looks a little old for his taste. How old is he?"

"About forty, but get this, he's a pig," Raylan could see there were two men standing next to him.

"Really?"

"Badge and all," he thought he could see the man holding up either his wallet or his badge, but he couldn't tell.

"Y'need to clean him up then," the man talking knelt down the unbuttoned his shirt, roughly running a hand over his chest. Raylan growled and twisted away from him," Still got some fight in him, boss'll like that," he ran his other hand up Raylan's thigh," you checked out his size yet?"

"He's untouched and gonna stay that way unless you're payin' for a trial run."

"Hands off, I promise no funny business but boss is gonna wanna know what he's workin' with. Especially since this one's gonna need some medical attention, you gone and shot him and that decreases his value."

'My value?' A cold chill ran over his body,' My size?' The man unbuckled his jeans and slid his zipper down,' No…' he grit his teeth and pulled at the restraints, the man was reaching inside his jeans.

"Wow, not bad at all," Raylan bit his lip and tried to knee the man only to find his ankles restrained as well," How much for the cowboy?"

"Have your boss make me an offer."

"I'll have to send him some evidence," the man toyed with him, Raylan's face grew hot as his body responded against his will.

"Have your boss give me his name and you can send him all the pictures you want, but stop playing with my stock."

"If we're gonna be putting that many zeros on our tab he's gonna wanna see him at full mast."

"Fine, but he's payin' extra. U.S. Marshals don't come cheap and he'd better hurry, from what I hear people are lookin' for him."

'Tim…' Raylan turned his head to face away from the men.

One of them grabbed his chin and jerked so he couldn't hide," Oh yeah, boss is gonna like you," the flash of a camera blinded him.

"Calm him down or he's gonna bleed everywhere," the other man held his head down onto the pillow and Raylan felt a needle stab into his neck.

"Boss wants him, five hundred thousand."

"Seriously? That's low!"

"He's bleeding to death and has a fucking drug habit!"

"Six hundred thousand."

"Five fifty."

"Deal."

"He'll be here in an hour to get him."—

The flashback hit hard and Raylan dropped to his knees and held his head,' What the fuck did they do to me?!'

"Ray!" Tim caught him, Raylan recoiled and pulled away. Tim let him go," What's wrong?"

"I—" Raylan grabbed onto Tim," I—remembered—something," his chest was tight.

"What?" Tim cradled him.

"I—" the words wouldn't come, like if he said it out loud it would make it true.

"It's okay," Tim kissed his forehead," you don't have to, take your time. I'm here for you."

"I think," he tried to catch his breath.

"Just wait until the panic passes," Tim was hushing him, Raylan realized he had dug his fingers into Tim's body trying to ground himself.

They sat on the floor for awhile, Raylan trying to process the flashback and remember if anything else had happened.

"My phone," Raylan fumbled for it and handed it to Tim," someone sent—"

Tim took the phone and opened the image, amused his partner still used a Blackberry when there were smartphones out. The image loaded and Tim drew a hissed breath. It showed Raylan tied to the same futon he'd found him on, sprawled out, shirt unbuttoned to his stomach and open showing a still muscled stomach even if it was covered in blood. Tim felt his blood boil, Raylan's jeans were unbuttoned and even though his boxers covered his skin Tim could see a very clear outline of his lover's erection," Ray," he started carefully," none of this is—" he stopped," I don't know what to say except I'm here."

The panic attacks had been bad, Raylan barely able to choke the anxiety pills down to make them stop. Tim had laid down with him until he'd passed out from a combination of exhaustion and drugs, he got up carefully and took his phone into the living room out of earshot and called Art," I know I was supposed to come to the office soon to fill out paperwork but something's come up."

"Everything okay?" He could hear Art's chair squeak.

"Someone sent a picture to Ray's phone, some unknown number."

"Yeah?"

"Of him, maybe less than an hour before I found him. They left the time stamp on there to freak him out and it worked."

"I'm guessing he's realizing how bad off he was."

"Not a normal picture, Art, someone had his shirt unbuttoned and—" Tim's voice was shaky," he was—aroused."

"Holy shit."

"He wasn't naked or anything, not yet," Tim swallowed, he felt sick.

"Do you think they…"

"I don't know, I gave him his sedatives and he's passed out in bed," he glanced back towards the bedroom.

"Jesus Christ, you know he'll have to talk about it and give another statement."

"Fuck," Tim ran a hand through his hair," I know."

"I can come by later on."

"He'd probably be more comfortable talking to you about it honestly."

Raylan was aware of Tim talking to someone on the phone in the living room,' Are you sure you even love Tim?'

'Shut up,' his body was sluggish, still he dragged himself out of bed to the bathroom.

'Those pills aren't strong enough anymore are they?'

'Fuck. You.'

'Junkie,' it shot back,' even if they raped you, you probably liked it.'

He swallowed the remaining pills from their hiding place on top of the cabinet,' Anythin' to make you shut up,' he stumbled back to bed and hugged Tim's pillow tightly.

'I'm just curious as to which one is gonna make your sons hate you more,' it continued,' the fact that you're a fag or the fact you're a junkie.'

Tim had heard Raylan get up," You okay?" He asked.

"Y-yeah," Raylan felt the numbness spreading over his body, the oxy taking over so he wouldn't have to think.

"Ray…"

"Y'call Art?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yeah," Tim searched his face to see a reaction.

"I know this changesss thingsss," his words slurred.

"Yeah, a little; but you're safe with me," Tim offered him his hand.

"I love you," Raylan took it and drunkenly pulled Tim towards him.

"I love you too," Tim propped up on a pillow and Raylan lay his head on Tim's chest.

"We've gotta talk," Tim kissed his hair.

"I don't 'member—"

"Ray," Tim interrupted him and sighed," you're gonna have to try."

Art knocked on the door, Tim answered and let him in," I brought Leslie with me," he smiled and gestured to his wife," just in case."

"It's nice to see you, Tim, I hope you don't mind," she squeezed his shoulder.

"Not at all Mrs. Mullen, please come in," Tim smiled warmly, he had always liked Art's wife.

"I'd like to take a look at your shoulder too while I'm here, and I brought some dinner for us."

"Thank you, Mrs. Mullen."

"Please son, call me Leslie."

"Raylan," Art sat on the chair next to the couch," how're you doin'?"

"Fucked up," Raylan admitted.

"I heard," Art frowned," I know you don't want to, but you have to tell me what you remembered."

"I'm fine," Raylan shifted uncomfortably," I remembered that some prick came and wanted to buy me, my captors were auctioning me off like a prized horse. They haggled and said I was only worth six hundred thousand since I'd been shot and might not last long, I don't remember the name of the buyer," Art was surprised he didn't have to drag it out of him," He inspected me and took pictures," Raylan shuddered and Art noticed he was rubbing his side.

"How're you healin' up?"

"I'd like to check you over," Leslie sat next to him," If that's okay with you."

Raylan knew and liked Leslie," Yes ma'am," he sat up.

"Oh hunni, just lay down and get comfortable," she was mothering him, he smiled and put a pillow behind his back so she could examine him," Tim said Dr. Kepnar was the one who took care of you?" He nodded." He did a good job," she had removed the gauze and was gently cleaning the area, "the sutures are starting to dissolve, you don't need to cover it anymore either. It's closing."

"Still hurts," he winced.

"I'm sure it does," she moved to his forehead," this seems to have healed up too, scar won't be bad either."

"It'll give me some character," he wrinkled his nose and snickered.

"Hunni," Raylan mused over the pet name, it was one his mom favored when he was a boy and was somehow comforting, "we need to talk about what happened."

"I don't remember," the room felt suddenly hot and very small.

"Gonna need you to try, doesn't matter who you talk to about it, whoever you're most comfortable with; but we need to know what happened."

Raylan looked away from her, eyes on the floor, "I don't remember much," silence hung in the air and he was very aware that everyone in the room was waiting on him to say something. His mind raced and a lump formed in his throat, "T-Tim," he hated how his voice sounded when his anxiety spiked.

"If you'd like, Leslie and I can go talk with the agent on detail," Art started.

"No, my chest's tight," Raylan shifted," gonna have a panic attack."

"I'll get your meds," Tim went to the back.

"I'd rather talk to you," Raylan looked at Art," but my memory is fuzzy."

"That's okay, just take your time."

Raylan swallowed the pills, Tim and Leslie went outside and sat on the porch leaving him alone with Art," I woke up a few times, I don't remember what happened and when, though. I know Boyd and I were in the back of the van and he was trying to see if the bullet had gone all the way through and when I yelled. That was the first time they drugged me."

Art nodded, he was taking notes but Raylan could also see he was recording the conversation on his phone," It's so if I miss something I don't have to make you do this again."

Raylan nodded and continued," When I woke up I was alone, tied to that bed. I remember someone coming to look at me, put an IV in my arm. Another guy joined him, they were arguin' over how much I was worth," he pulled out his phone and showed Art the picture," unbuttoned my shirt, checked—" his cheeks burned," checked my size, took pictures of me. First fella said I was worth six hundred thousand, they settled at five fifty."

"Did you get a look at these men?"

"I don't remember," Raylan rubbed his head, trying to will the memories back," their faces are blurry, I do know that this man wasn't the first to come lookin' at me. I have bits-n-pieces of what happened but I don't remember details. Different voices talkin' prices and the first guy goin' through his sales pitch."

"So when they came to an agreement, did you see who had made the deal?"

"No, he had a funny soundin' name but I can't place it," Raylan felt the anxiety meds working, images of what had happened still fresh in his mind," they said he'd be there within the hour and then they drugged me again. I'm sorry, Art, I don't remember anythin' else."

"Not yet, but you remembered this so more might come to light."

"I don't know if I want it to," Raylan shook his head," I know that doesn't help much."

"You okay?"

"No, I'm pretty fucked up. I don't know what all they did to me," his face was red," I remember bein'—touched," he squirmed.

"We didn't have anyone run a rape kit at the hospital either," Art sighed.

"I don't think I was—" he rubbed the bridge of his nose, not wanting to say the word," I'd always had a thing for Tim, I didn't know how deep that went until I was taken. When I got back he was there and it was so easy, like we were supposed to be together. Now…I don't really wanna be touched at all sometimes."

"You'll need to see a therapist," Art had stopped recording and closed his notebook.

"No," Raylan shook his head," I'm not seeing a shrink."

"Raylan, it might help."

"No, Art, it won't help, it'll fuck me up more. I'd rather not have to talk about this again."

"I know, but getting it off your chest—"

"And what if I was raped?" Raylan sat up," I don't want to think about that every time I have sex for the rest of my life! Especially now that I'm with Tim."

"Whatever happened, Raylan it wasn't your fault and it didn't 'turn you gay'. You and Tim weren't exactly quiet about your feelings even before you knew you had them. You'd always go on assignments together, always coming into work together, always leaving work together. Hell I'm surprised you two hadn't been romantically involved until now. I actually gave Tim the order not to shoot Doyle until he had a better shot and he flat out ignored me and blew his brains out because he saw that he'd shot you. We didn't see the gun he had pointed at you in his hand, we didn't know until you told us about it at the hospital."

"I needed to hear that," Raylan rolled his neck, rubbing a stiff spot.

"Point is, Raylan, what you and Tim have is good for you. Both of you. We caught the men that were holding you, now we're gonna start lookin' for the one who made the purchase."

"I don't know whether I wanna go back to the office tomorrow or quit."

"I think you need to put a gun in your hand and see how it feels," Art prodded," You're a damn good Deputy, Raylan, you're one of my best."

"I don't know anymore," Raylan shook his head and started to pace," everything makes me jump, I can't go anywhere without feelin' so overwhelmed and overstimulated I can't function and you wanna put a gun in my hand?"

"Same thing happened last time you got shot," Art reminded him.

—He reeled the target towards him, squinting to see where his shots had gone. Shooting at forty feet was no easy task and it was difficult to tell if he'd even hit the paper. As it got closer he winced,' I couldn't hit someone walkin' in a straight frickin' line at me without a weapon on them,' he pinned a new target on top of that one and glanced nervously around to be sure no one else was watching. He pushed it back and reloaded his magazine, clicking it into his gun he swapped the holster to his left side,' Let's see how this goes,' he took a slow breath and drew, firing a single round downrange and hoping he'd hit the paper. Pain blossomed through his chest and he put his elbows on the little shelf used to rest firearms and magazines on, he raised his eyebrows and grit his teeth through the tension spreading like wildfire over his body,' Okay, that was worse…'—

Raylan rubbed his eye with the back of his hand," Art, it took me months before I was able to shoot right again."

"And I had Tim drag you out of the office to hone your reflexes and get you back in the field."

"It's too soon," Raylan realized he was fidgeting, he stood slowly and paced. Art noticed him favoring his injured side and limping, "or it's too late, I don't fuckin' know."

"Raylan, I don't want you thinkin' too hard about this just yet. You just got out of the hospital and you're still on antibiotics for the infection, and the pain meds, and the anxiety meds…"

'And the oxy Boyd's been giving me in nice gift-wrapped baggies,' the voice was back, he couldn't stop it this time. If he tried to escape to the bathroom Art would know something was up, the older man was sharp and Raylan couldn't take any chances.

"We're not safe here anymore," he said finally," I talked to my boys, and at least they're safe."

"I made sure your ex-mother-in-law was notified and she moved them," Art nodded. "Oh, for God's sake, Raylan," he shook his head," would you sit down?"

Raylan obeyed,' When did I become this docile?' He mulled the thought over in his mind and noticed his knee was bouncing like it had a mind of its own,' Why am I so nervous?'

'Because your boss is sittin' in your boyfriend's living room and Boyd is probably outside puttin' another baggie of fuckin' oxy on his bathroom window sill and you're afraid that you'll get caught. Not givin' a fuck about Boyd gettin' caught, just thinkin' about what will happen if *you* get caught,' he pushed his hair back, realizing how long it had gotten since he'd been injured.

"You need a haircut," Art had noticed him playing with the locks at the base of his neck.

"Yeah," Raylan admitted," but I don't want anyone touching me but Tim."

"Understandable."

"Are we finished?" It came out harsher than it needed to, Art paid it no mind already accustomed to Raylan's temper when something was bothering him.

"If you don't remember anything else, then yeah, Raylan," Art leaned forward and looked at him with an 'I know something's going on with you but I'm not gonna drag it out of you' kind of look. Raylan squirmed," I'll go get Tim and Leslie."

"I'd like to come check on you again in a few days," Leslie was telling him, he was nodding and trying everything he could think of to get her and Art out of Tim's house. He wasn't sure what would make him feel better, normal, something—anything at this point. He wanted to be alone and not be touched, but he wanted to fuck Tim's brains out hard and raw to take out some frustration just because he needed a release. He wanted to text Boyd and tell him to go fuck himself and not to bring anymore drugs to Tim's house, but also to swallow those pills and feel the numbness wash over him and the pain ease.

Finally Art and Leslie were leaving, Tim walked them to the door and locked it behind them after he'd seen them get into their car. He turned around and Raylan grabbed him and shoved him against the wall, hard. His mouth was hot and needy as it dominated Tim's, tongue wrestling for control. Tim tensed up and Raylan felt him fight his instincts before the tension left his body and he relaxed, surrendering to whatever the cowboy wanted; but that's the opposite of what Raylan was after. His self-destructive side wanted to fight, wanted to be resisted in a way, wanted something to hurt him. He grabbed Tim and practically threw him onto the couch, side aching satisfyingly as his muscles flexed. He climbed on top and was tearing at Tim's clothes, biting him roughly and practically daring Tim to fight back.

"Ray," Tim was saying as his teeth clamped down hard enough to bruise on his shoulder," you're gonna—" Raylan's mouth stopped whatever sentence was on its way out of the sniper's lips," Hurt yourself—" his hands roamed hungrily over Tim's body, jerking his hips up and grinding into him," Ray, c'mon stop," he heard the edge in Tim's voice and knew he was hitting his breaking point but Raylan continued his assault," Ray—," Tim started to struggle as Raylan hauled his sweats down to his knees and began wiggling out of his flannel pants. He didn't bother trying to tease his lover as his mouth made its way to his arousal.

Raylan sank his teeth into Tim's hip and that did it," Raylan, dammit!" It was the first time he'd used his full name in a long time. Tim grabbed him and Raylan resisted,' He wants me to kick his ass,' Tim realized. It wasn't the first time he'd seen this behavior from his partner, he remembered the numerous times he'd pulled Raylan out of bars or picked him up off the ground after he'd picked a fight he knew he might not win especially since he was drunk," Stop it!" He rolled and pinned Raylan to the floor, straddling his chest but careful not to put enough weight on him to hurt him.

Raylan blinked and seemed to wake up," I'm not gonna kick your ass you idiot!" Tim snarled at him," What is *wrong* with you?!" Raylan looked up at him, wide-eyed and almost frightened," I'm not gonna hurt you," Tim said quietly," I know what you're doin', Ray. You think that whatever those fuckers did to you when you were abducted turned you gay and now you're questioning everything," Raylan blinked again, like something was finally registering," I wasn't joking when I told you I loved you, you don't have to be afraid of this."

"I-I'm sorry," Raylan choked. Tim shifted his weight and moved, gathering the cowboy in his arms.

"It's okay, Ray," he was whispering in his hair," I've been here, I know how this feels and it's terrifying."

"I'm real bad off right now, darlin'," Raylan admitted,' I wanna tell you so bad,' he felt his eyes water," This isn't me."

"I know," Tim was stroking his back," how long did you think you could hide it?"  
Raylan felt a wave of relief wash over him,' He knows,' he started to panic at the thought.

"I'm a lot of things, Ray, I'm a bad singer, I'm a nerd who reads fairytales and watches cartoons, I'm a dead shot with a rifle; but I'm not a fuckin' idiot no matter what I told Vasquez."

"Y'mad at me?"

"No," Tim held him tightly," I'm not mad at you; but you have to stop."

"I don't wanna go to that clinic," Raylan was trembling now.

"Leslie said she'd help you," Tim was helping him stand and leading him to bed," she knows Dr. Kepnar and we might be able to get him to write your meds," Tim stopped," Ray, you've been off of the Suboxone for four, almost five, days now. The withdrawals should have stopped by now unless they're in your head."

"Gettin' somewhat better," he couldn't bring himself to tell Tim about the drugs yet.

"Ray," Tim crawled on top of him," there are other ways to blow off steam," he kissed him passionately, Raylan wrapped his arms around Tim's neck. This was new, usually when something was bothering him his self-destructive side won and he ended up staring down the neck of a bottle of bourbon and looking for a fight where victory wasn't guaranteed. Tim's mouth was demanding and the fire behind those kisses made his lips burn. Tim nibbled his ear then bit down on his neck, Raylan gasped at the sudden jolt of pain. A hand slipped into his waistband and grabbed his arousal, his hips moved in time with Tim's hand. Tim was kissing him roughly and pulling gently on his hair, he met the passion with his own.

Tim glided down his body, nipping at his hips. Raylan leaned his head back and closed his eyes, waiting for Tim's tongue to flick over the head of his dick, and bit his lip in anticipation. Instead, Tim swallowed his entire length. Raylan yelped in surprise at the sudden intensity, Tim had his eyes trained on his face to see his reaction. He slowed so much he almost stopped, eyes questioning, "D-don't stop," Raylan stretched his arms behind his head beneath the pillow and arched into Tim's mouth.

"Easy there, cowboy," Tim said quietly, loving the way Raylan whined for more. "Seriously Ray, don't hurt yourself," he waited for Raylan to settle, chest rising and falling with an urgent neediness that Tim knew he'd never showed anyone before. It was desperate, helpless, his lips returned to their previous job and Raylan moaned. Layers fell away as Raylan allowed himself to fall apart, body tensing only from the intensity of each wave of pleasure. Tim ran his tongue along the vein that climbed from Raylan's body to the tip of his arousal and moved away.

"Hmmmph?" Raylan picked his head up, confused.  
Tim slid next to him, "I'm all yours," he reached out and helped Raylan to his knees. The look in his lover's eyes was hungry, predatory in a way. "There are other ways to blow off steam," he repeated.

"I don't wanna hurt you," Raylan was using every ounce of self control in his being not to grab Tim's hips.

"Then don't," Tim smiled his odd little half smile, "I trust you."  
Raylan kissed him, long and deep. Somewhere in between breaths he felt Tim's hand on him and a slickness spreading over him, the sound from his throat was primal. He felt Tim's lips curl into another smile, his head felt like it would explode if he waited any longer.

He didn't want to break the kiss but the new position was too tempting. Winona had never liked doggy style, which had always surprised Raylan because she never seemed to want to kiss him or even look at him much during sex. Tim snuggled into the pillow in front of him and let out a low hum of satisfaction as Raylan pushed forward, he moved slowly and gently in and out until he felt Tim pushing his body back against him, "I won't break, sweetheart." Raylan grabbed his hips, soft at first but gradually digging into Tim's skin as his climax mounted. Tim was stroking himself, mouth slightly open with little moans of pleasure rolling off of his tongue.

"Mmmm, Ray," he breathed. Raylan growled and slammed into him, coming hard. Panting he pulled out and Tim helped him lay down, Raylan noticed his hands were shaking. He could smell the thickness of their combined orgasms in the room, Tim getting out of bed to get cleaned up.

He looked over and saw Tim climbing on the toilet. "Need to do laundry again," he snickered. Raylan's heart thudded in his chest, Tim was reaching on top of the cabinet where he kept his stash of Oxy.


	22. Skin Trade

Chapter 23: Skin Trade

Raylan tapped the green call button on Tim's tablet, Ricky and Randy's faces appeared on the screen after a few seconds, "Dad!" they both squealed.

"Hey boys," Raylan smiled and Tim couldn't help but think fatherhood looked as good on him as everything else, he stopped himself as his eyes roamed hungrily over Raylan's body. Tim sipped his coffee by the window and started fixing a cup for Raylan.

"Dad, why didn't you call sooner?" Ricky whined.

"Tim got the cast off his foot and we had a lot of paperwork at the hospital," Raylan felt his eyes water at the sight of his boys, safe and sound with his ex-mother-in-law.

"Is he okay?" Randy asked.

"Yeah, say hey," Raylan looked up at Tim.

"Hey guys," Tim stood behind Raylan and waved at them.

"Hey Tim!" Ricky waved excitedly.

"You takin' care of Daddy?" Randy asked.

"Yeah, he's doin' just fine, sport," Tim grinned.

"Is that your house?" Ricky asked.

"Yeah, it's easier for our boss to keep an eye on us if we're together," Tim didn't know how much Raylan wanted him to say, so he kept it light.

"Good, I remember you from last time," Ricky smiled.

"Last time?" Raylan looked over his shoulder.

"When you got shot," Ricky said, "Tim was there when Mommy went to see you."

"I kept them company while Winona went to see you," Tim explained.

"I didn't know they were there," Raylan whispered.

"You were asleep," Tim said, "then she…left."

"Mom called us last night," said Randy.

"Good, how's she doin'?" Raylan asked more for their benefit than his own.

"She made me sad," Ricky said softly.

"Ricky!" Randy hissed.

"What happened, buddy?" Raylan asked, concerned.

"She said we weren't comin' back to Kentucky," Randy sighed.

"Not for awhile, boys," Raylan started and Ricky interrupted him.

"She said she don't love you no more," Ricky blurted.

"Son, your mother and I have been divorced for awhile now," Raylan reminded him gently. "Nothin' to do with you guys, we just don't get along well but both of us still love you."

"You get along with Tim!" Ricky grinned.

"Yeah, we're close," Raylan smiled.

"So can we come live with you and Tim?" Ricky asked.

Raylan looked at Tim, who said, "You two are always welcome here, I have a stash of nerf guns that I haven't broken out in awhile."

The speakers crackled as the boys shrieked and giggled, "Gotta go now, Dad, Tim," Randy said. "Nana's bringing us swimming!"

"Have fun you two, lemme talk at Nana for a sec," Raylan said.

"Okay, love you Dad!" Ricky smiled.

"Yeah, love you Dad," Randy repeated.

"Love you too, guys," Raylan missed them so much his chest hurt.

"Thank you for takin' care of Daddy, Tim," Randy said.

"Ahh, he's a pain in the ass," Tim chuckled, "I'll see you guys soon."

"Raylan," Winona's mother appeared and the boys ran out of the room, "How're you doin'?"

"Rough," he admitted.

"Is it safe?" she asked.

"No," he sighed, "there's a new development in the case, I need you and Winona to keep the boys safe."

"You let me know what's goin' on when you can, son," she smiled warmly.

"I will, and please," Raylan ran a hand through his hair, wondering how to word this.

"The boys will adjust," she added.

"Huh?" Raylan looked up surprised.

"I hope you and Tim are happy together," Tim blushed.

"Winona told you then?" Raylan asked, Tim put a hand on his shoulder lovingly.

"Yeah, she was pissed, but it's her fault. She's left you three times now, Raylan, it's time for you to move on and be happy," the boys ran into the room again, shouting excitedly. "Okay boys, we're going! Raylan, you and Tim take care of each other. Things are okay over here."

"Yes ma'am," Tim said.

"I won't be able to contact you if things go sideways," Raylan said seriously.

"They're used to it," Nana smiled.

"Love you boys," Raylan called to his sons.

A chorus of, "I love you too, Daddy!" and Nana hung up.

"I didn't figure Winona'd tell them," Raylan shook his head, Tim shifted uncomfortably. "I don't care who knows," Raylan turned and hugged him. "I'm not ashamed of us, for the first time in my life I'm happy."

"Me too," Tim kissed his throat and Raylan purred.

"Now, you need to get to the office before Art puts out a BOLO on you," Raylan smiled.

"You gonna be okay?" Tim asked.

"I'm not ready yet," Raylan fingered his side where the flesh had just barely knitted itself back together. "I'm gonna need a few more days."

"Okay," Tim tilted his head up and pulled Raylan in for a kiss.

"Be careful," Raylan smiled.

"Always am," Tim reluctantly let him go and started to turn around when Raylan pulled him closer. "Ray, sweetheart," Tim snickered, "we don't have time to go back to bed and…" he felt Raylan's fingers digging into his back, hard and urgent. His muscles were so tense Tim was sure they'd snap under the pressure, "Ray?"

"You…" Raylan shivered and clutched Tim to his chest protectively.

"Looks like you're feeling better," a velvety smooth voice said behind Tim.

"How'd you get in?" Raylan's voice took on a calm even tone but Tim could feel his heart pounding in his chest.

"You'd be surprised what they let you get away with when you drive a black sedan and wear a suit."

"What do you want?" Raylan asked.

"I want what I paid for," Tim tried to turn around, but Raylan held him still. "Oh come on, Marshal," the man said in a daring tone, "let him go."

"Tim," Raylan said through his teeth.

"Ray, what the hell is going on?" Tim struggled to look up at him.

"I need you to trust me," Raylan knew what this man wanted, it made his blood run cold and terrified him in ways he didn't know were possible. He eyed the man's cold blue eyes and followed his three piece tailored Gucci suit down to the end of the sleeve where a small pistol was sticking out of the cuff next to the glitter of the diamond studded cufflinks.

"Ray?" Tim's fight or flight was kicking in and he was resisting the urge to throw Raylan to the ground and face whoever was in his house.

"How sweet," the man cooed.

"All right," Raylan sighed, "but you leave him alone."

"He's more my taste," the man said cynically.

"No," Raylan growled.

"What are you gonna do exactly, Marshal?" he taunted.

"Tim," Raylan didn't look down at him but cradled Tim's head into his chest.

The man interrupted him, "Even better, I take it he's your lover?" he shrugged. "Tell him what's going on then, Marshal."

"Ray?" Tim pulled away from Raylan, but Raylan jerked him almost painfully back into him.

"Tim, the man who took those pictures is standing in the doorway with a gun," Raylan's grip was strong. "If you turn around, he's gonna shoot you."

"Very good, Marshal," the man sneered.

Raylan knew there was a gun less than ten feet away from where they were standing, but he couldn't risk Tim's life to get to it. The front door squeaked as it opened, the man didn't move or turn, "Tim? Raylan?" Vasquez's voice rang through the house.

"We're fine," Raylan called. "Tim, I need you to trust me," he said quietly.

"Mmmhmmm," Tim stopped pushing against his grip and Raylan felt his body loosen up.

Vasquez appeared in the doorway, "What in the hell?"

"You should leave," the man said nonchalantly.

"I can have a gun on you in—" Vasquez started.

"Vasquez!" Raylan twisted to throw Tim out of the way but wasn't fast enough, a crack echoed through the house as the blonde-haired man's gun went off. Tim crumpled in his arms, "TIM!" Raylan screamed his name. Tim dug his fingers into Raylan's back and his knees buckled, Raylan grabbed him and lunged for the gun Tim kept in a pop out compartment on the kitchen's island. More gunfire, Raylan pulled the gun from its hiding place. He wanted to check on Tim, to see where he'd been hit, if he'd been hit, and how bad it was. Instead he stood and scanned the room, more people rushed into the room and he shot the man closest to them in the chest. Before he could get another shot off, another man rushed him and tackled him into the counter. He fell backwards, ribs hitting the edge hard and knocking the air from his lungs. He fought back and saw Tim, standing and holding his own against a third man though he was a little pale and his stance was off.

Tim had a mean right hand, the blonde man with the gun had gotten too close and Tim's fist connected with his jaw. The gunman's head whipped to the side and he fell much to Raylan's satisfaction. Raylan wrestled against the man in front of him, more gunshots, he grabbed the man's wrist and sidestepped as he pulled. He braced the heel of his hand against the man's elbow and shoved until he felt his arm snap, earning a howl from the assailant. He pressed the gun he'd gotten from the kitchen's island into the base of the man's skull and prepared to pull the trigger.

"Hey!" a voice boomed and broke the silence. Raylan whirled and saw it had come from the blonde man, he had Tim by the throat with his left hand and pressed against the wall. Raylan gasped as he saw the gun in his right hand was pressed to Tim's forehead, "That's right, Marshal," he said, laughter playing at the corners of his smile, "drop the gun and put your hands up."

"Raylan," Tim strained. The man hit him, Tim's head jerked to the side and he grunted. When he lifted his head again blood ran freely from his nose, a choked sound coming from his throat as the man tightened his grip.

"You got it," Raylan held the gun up, barrel pointed towards the ceiling.

"Eject the magazine," the man pressed his gun against Tim's forehead again, "then de-chamber the round and put the gun on the counter."

"R-ray…" Tim coughed and Raylan could see pain in his eyes.

Raylan pressed the release on the Sig and the magazine clattered to the floor, "I want your word he won't be harmed."

"I'll set him free," the man dipped his head.

"If I go with you?" Raylan lowered the gun and grabbed the slide.

"I paid for you," the man cocked his head to the side.

"Deal," Raylan racked the slide, the bullet hit the floor.

Wynn Duffy entered the room, "What're you doin' here?" Raylan put the gun on the counter.

"Next one's comin' faster, eh Marshal?" Wynn smiled.

"Cuff him," the blonde man nodded to Raylan. Tim struggled and blood bubbled from his nose, it didn't look serious but Raylan wasn't enjoying the view.

"We're taking him with us?" Wynn asked.

"I paid for that one," he said with a smile, "Five-hundred and fifty thousand dollars."

Tim's eyes widened as the realization hit him, "You sonuvabitch," he growled.

Wynn slid a zip tie over each of Raylan's wrists, Raylan panicked and started to struggle as a flashback hit, "Uh uh uh," the blonde man shook his head, "you go quietly or I blow your boyfriend's head off. Got it?" Raylan swallowed hard and nodded, "He's got some fight in him though, I like that."

"Fuck you," Raylan growled. "Vasquez?" he searched the floor as Duffy hauled him across the room.

"None of your concern," the man let go of Tim's throat but kept the gun to his head. Raylan prayed Tim would stay put, "You can let him go, as long as I have a gun to this boy's head he'll be docile, won't you, Marshal?" Raylan nodded again.

"Good," he took a step towards Raylan, "Take this," the man handed Duffy a gun, "I trust you know what to do with it."

"Who are you?" Raylan wanted Tim to at least have a name.

"Robert Quarles," the man replied elegantly, he grabbed Raylan's jaw and pulled his face close. "You're much better-looking when you're not covered in blood, I must say."

Raylan's stomach turned, "I'm afraid I can't return the compliment."

"Stalling so the other feds will show up and come to your rescue," Quarles snickered, he was so close to Raylan's face Raylan could smell his aftershave and a hint of the minty toothpaste he'd used earlier with an undertone of cologne. "Now, you should tell your boyfriend over there not to move."

"Tim," Raylan didn't take his eyes off of Quarles, "You heard the man."

"Raylan," Tim answered defiantly, Duffy standing in front of him holding his own gun.

Quarles turned and looked at Tim, still holding Raylan's jaw. He smiled and reached into his pocket, Raylan couldn't see what he was doing but he handed something to Wynn who didn't look like he agreed with whatever was about to happen.

"Robert?" Wynn looked at him, questioning.

"You know what…? Cuff him too," Quarles snickered and turned back to Raylan.

"The deal was—," Raylan tried to pull away.

"Shhhhhh," Quarles reached into his pocket again and pulled out a syringe. Raylan stiffened and pulled against the bonds on his wrists, feeling the plastic cutting into his skin, "The deal was, I'd set him free."

"Raylan!" Tim staggered, unable to hold himself up any longer. Wynn grabbed his hair and jerked his head back. Tim felt cold steel pressing into him between his shoulder blades and knew a bullet at that angle would likely kill him instantly.

"Leave him alone," Raylan was close to begging. "You can have me, that's fine, just leave him alone."

"Or should I tell him?" Quarles' eyes were malicious, he put the syringe back into his pocket and put his arm around Raylan. He smiled at Tim, "I was poking fun about you two being lovers at first, but it seems there might be something to it. Doesn't matter to me, but it makes my work that much easier. You see," he ran his hand down the side of Raylan's face, "I've taken it upon myself to set people like the two of you free." Raylan leaned away from him, Quarles frowned, "So, have you seen what's under these clothes yet?" he asked Tim, running a hand down Raylan's chest. Tim curled his lip in disgust, "Let's see how you've healed up, Marshal," he slid Raylan's shirt up and inspected his side. He traced the outside of the wound.

"Stop," Tim breathed.

Quarles laughed low and throaty and dug a finger into the pink flesh where Raylan's body had started trying to grow back together. Raylan's knees buckled and he couldn't stifle the sound that tore itself from his throat, Quarles held him upright and put more pressure on the wound. Raylan threw his head back and tried to cope with the pain quietly, knowing this was all a show to try and get Tim to do something stupid so his captor could shoot him, or both of them.

"Robert," Wynn started.

"I have to commend you, son," Quarles continued, "he's gorgeous." Quarles ran his hand over Raylan's abs, Raylan panted and his vision blurred.

Tim struggled and Wynn held the syringe in front of his face threateningly, "No," Tim thought, "I just have to stall them long enough for someone to realize we're in trouble."

"I seem to have struck a nerve," Quarles grinned, "what about this?" he ran his hand down Raylan's stomach and rubbed his crotch. Raylan squirmed and Quarles tapped his jaw with the gun extending from his sleeve, reminding him to be still. "Have you seen it yet?" Quarles grabbed him through the flannel pajamas and Raylan's mouth opened and a huff of breath escaped before he closed it and set his jaw. "Much more responsive without the Heroin in your system," Quarles pressed his cheek against Raylan's. "Oh the things I'm going to do to you…" Raylan flinched, his body responded and Quarles silky laugh was there again. He pressed his lips against Raylan's, Raylan turned his head and Wynn popped the cap on the syringe.

"Is this who you are now?" Raylan asked Wynn, breathing heavier as Quarles' touch sent blood rushing to his pelvis against his will. "Is this what you want to support?"

"He makes me a lot of money," Wynn shrugged.

Quarles drove his knee into Raylan's thigh, snickering when Raylan hit his knees. Raylan's leg went numb and he bit back a groan. Quarles retracted the gun back into its hiding place in his sleeve with a click, Raylan was thankful his other hand had left the growing pressure in his pants alone. He let his head fall forward and breathed through the pain in his thigh, Quarles grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head back. He cried out in surprise, Quarles' mouth claimed his as he took advantage of Raylan's mouth being open.

"Enough!" Tim elbowed Wynn and lunged at Quarles.

Quarles planted a foot in his chest with a sickening thud, but Tim was a fighter. He shoved Quarles against the wall, Raylan losing his balance and falling awkwardly to his side. Tim was on top of Quarles, fist colliding into him with a force that impressed Raylan, "Tim!" he choked on the words as pain ripped through him when he hit the floor. He watched, kicking out at Wynn as the man's arm wrapped around Tim's throat. Raylan saw light glitter off of the syringe as Wynn brought it down and buried it into Tim's neck. Tim fought, Wyn tossed the needle aside and Tim took the opportunity. He threw him over his head and staggered to his feet, grabbing his neck with his free hand and groping for his cell phone with the other one.

His vision swam, whatever was in the syringe was strong and already pulling at him. He unlocked his phone and was thankful that Art was on his favorites list. He pressed his boss's name and hoped he could buy them enough time, the man whose arm Raylan had broken earlier kicked Tim in the ribs. Tim dropped, inches from Raylan, "Tim!" Raylan tried getting closer to him. The man cradled his arm where Raylan had snapped it at the elbow, but kicked Tim mercilessly.

"Stop!" Quarles had composed himself, though blood still ran from his mouth and a gash beneath his eye. "Cuff him too," Duffy secured zip ties on Tim's wrists, Raylan started to get worried when Tim stopped fighting but was secretly hoping they'd leave him here so he could tell Art what these freaks looked like at least. "We're bringing him too," Quarles sat Tim up and grabbed a handful of his hair. He locked eyes with Raylan and jerked Tim's head back, smile on his lips as he licked from Tim's jawline to his temple.

"No!" Raylan yelled, "You can have me, I won't fight you!"

"I've already got you," Quarles smiled again.

"Please," Raylan begged, "please just leave him alone."

"What exactly do you think you have to offer me at this point?" Tim was still fighting the drugs and trying to stand up.

"I'll do whatever you want," Raylan pleaded.

"What makes you think you've got a choice?" Quarles let Tim's body fall and crawled on top of Raylan. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the syringe again and popped the cap with his teeth.

Raylan leaned his head back and felt his eyes water as the flashback hit, "Please," he tried one last time, "do what you want with me, but don't hurt Tim." Quarles put the heel of his hand on Raylan's cheek and turned his head away from him to expose his neck.

"This should be a familiar feeling," Raylan jumped and let out a small yelp as Quarles buried the needle into his skin. He was jerked to his feet and dragged into the living room, Vasquez had been zip tied as well.

"Givens?" Vasquez slurred his name as if he'd been drugged too.

"Leave that one," Raylan couldn't help but lean on him, he was close to losing consciousness but wanted to comply in case they decided to leave Tim alone. Quarles flicked his wrist and the gun popped out, "He won't be telling anyone anything." Raylan's body jerked as the gun went off and Vasquez dropped to the floor.


End file.
